


A Bad Influence

by Marfacat



Series: Starscream But In Really Weird Scenarios [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Everyone is off the shits, Gen, Hell I guess this is a redemption fic now, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, References to Abuse, Secret-Keeping, Starscream being Starscream, Starscream gets a blog, The ethical conundrums of Starscream Mitosis, What is going on you may ask?, and shares his Spicy Hot Takes, general bad decision making, good fucking question lmao, headcanons galore, starscream on the internet, this is going from 0 to 100, weirdest redemption arc ever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 62,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22249069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marfacat/pseuds/Marfacat
Summary: Starscream, in a fit of madness, loneliness, and probably also slight starvation, decides to make a tumblr blog.It’s all downhill from there.(AU beginning at the end of season one, when he’s being a hermit.)
Series: Starscream But In Really Weird Scenarios [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1524788
Comments: 1726
Kudos: 796





	1. The Debacle Begins

**Author's Note:**

> So. To those of you reading this after my forty-chapter Actually Decent fic ‘The Hippie Cult,’ I sincerely apologize. This is... Crack. 
> 
> Anyway, this has been collecting dust on my phone for months- and now I’m unleashing it.

Starscream wasn’t entirely certain what possessed him to do it, really. He’d spent months perusing the data on the human internet, finding nothing of any particular usefulness to him, and yet he continued to waste his time with it- human social media websites in particular. 

Perhaps a part of him missed watching a functioning society- however primitive and backwards- go about its business. Perhaps he wanted to laugh at the stupidity the the apparent pinnacle of human achievement was wasted on. Perhaps he was lonely. 

Either way, he found himself staring down his brand-new, completely empty tumblr blog labeled ‘normalperson123.’

‘Greetings.’ Said the header sternly. ‘I am just a normal human person who participates in normal human activities. Nothing to see here.’

He always was a terrible liar, and he  knew it was bad, but he was too stubborn to change it. 

“What in the frag am I supposed to do with this?” He muttered to himself, tapping his claws against the  Harbinger ’s console. Perhaps an introduction? Couldn’t hurt.

‘I am here to participate in the data-sharing social activities of this website. My interests are...’ he paused. ‘My interests are science,’ eugh, how broad, ‘space,’ so  _ basic_, ‘and F-16 fighter jets (all the other types are inferior and pathetic). I also may use this space to ‘vent’ about my personal life. That’s it.’ 

Well. That was as perfectly straightforward as he could get. He supposed it would suffice. 

He spent the next hour scrolling through the ‘F-16’ tag, reblogging various pictures with comments such as ‘superb!’ and ‘very nice.’ After about fifteen posts he decided that that was enough for one day. Feeling embarrassed and perhaps a bit accomplished, he resumed his search for cybertronian activity. 

...

After about a week of blogging about airplanes, astrophysics, and (weirdly enough) stupid work-related jokes and memes, he’d attracted a small following of fifteen users.  


He felt very proud of himself for that. It brought a sliver of comfort, knowing that fifteen random strangers thought he was interesting enough to follow. 

After a particularly humiliating defeat one day, he felt he needed that. 

‘Ugh,’ he began, ‘just got the slag beat out of me. It’s funny how they seem to think that everyone deserves mercy and understanding except for me. I knew they hated me, but the way they made me bargain information in exchange for medical treatment was just _horrid!_ They act so morally superior, but they’re just as awful as anyone else I’ve ever met. Aftheads.’ 

Before he could think much about what he’d said, he posted it. About five minutes later, he received a notification.

‘I’m so sorry that happened!!! Are you ok?’ said someone called weedbaby69. They were a follower of his as of three days prior. He’d scanned through their blog and found mostly incomprehensible ‘memes.’

‘I’m better now, I suppose,’ He replied back. 

‘Would you like to talk about it?’ Asked weedbaby69. He thought for a minute.

‘I think so.’

‘ _ So, what happened? _ ’ Asked weedbaby69 over the messaging system. 

‘ _Had a run-in with some enemies,_ ’ he said, ‘ _they were less than cordial._ ’

‘ _ Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital?’ _ Starscream almost snorted.

_ And what do you care? _ H e thought, but he typed out ‘ _ I’m as well as can be expected, thank you for your concern. _ ’ It was sarcastic. 

‘ _ Oh good!!!!! I hope it stays that way :) _ ’ said weedbaby69.

Curious.

...

Miko giggled, staring at her computer screen.

“Oh,” she giggled, “oh my god. Hey, Jack! Come look at this!” Jack rolled his eyes and took a seat next to her.

“I thought you said you’d help Raf with finding pictures of the Autobots,” he said.

“No, no- I  _ was_\- but look at this post I found! It’s in the ‘not an alien’ tag.” Jack stared before bursting into laughter.

“‘I am here to participate in the data-sharing social activities of this website?’ Oh, wow- ‘My interests are science, space, and F-16 fighter jets (all the other types are inferior and pathetic)-’” He tapered off, giggling. “‘I also may use this space to ‘vent’ about my personal life-’ oh my god, is this person even  _real?_ ” Miko snickered.

“I know, right? Let’s check out their blog!” 

A few seconds later, they weren’t finding it near as funny.

“ _ Ratchet! _ ”

...

“So, let me get this straight,” Ratchet said, pinching the space between his optics. “Miko was looking for possible photographic evidence of our existence on a  _ blogging platform_, using the key phrase ‘not an alien,’ as if anyone posting images of cybertronians on the human internet _wouldn’t_ _ want  _ _them to be seen_ , and now you think that  _ Starscream _ has somehow created a _blog_ , on a  _ human  _ _data-sharing platform_ whose express purpose is  _ socialization_, despite the fact that he _hates humans._ ”  


Miko blinked.

“Yeah, pretty much,” she said. Ratchet groaned.

“I have more _important_ matters to worry about-”

“Wait, wait!” Said Jack. “Just look at the blog, and you’ll understand. I’ll have Raf send you a link.”

About forty-five seconds and fifteen different alien curses later, Ratchet slumped and buried his face in his servos.

“What’s wrong, doc-bot?” Miko asked cheekily.

“It’s Starscream. It’s definitely Starscream. This is  _ absurd_,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. Miko cackled.

“I  told you!” She shouted, pointing her finger at him mockingly. Jack cleared his throat.

“That’s great, but what are we going to do? Is this dangerous? Should we shut him down?” Ratchet frowned thoughtfully.

“On the contrary, Jackson. I’ll have to talk this over with Optimus, but I think that the best course of action would be to monitor him through his...” he grimaced at the most recent post. “ _Whining_. It will give us an advantage in understanding his psyche and predicting his moves in the future. As concerning as this is, it’s actually quite a useful find.”

“You’re welcome,” Miko said smugly. Ratchet grimaced again.

“... Good job, Miko,” he relented. 

...

It was agreed upon by the Autobots that Starscream would be permitted to keep his blog for monitoring purposes, and that the kids were not to interact with it under _any circumstances._

Naturally, Jack caught Miko doing just that the very next day.

She had been giggling in the corner at lunch, transfixed by her computer.

“What’s so funny?” Jack asked, seating himself next to her. Miko froze and pulled her laptop closer to her body. 

“Nothing!” She squeaked. Jack, sensing all kinds of red flags, made a grab for it. It took some prying, but he finally managed to wrestle it away from her and get a good look at it.

“... Are you kidding me?!” He hissed, gesturing angrily to the blog. Miko snatched her computer back.

“What? It’s not like I’m hurting anybody!” She protested. Jack groaned.

“Miko, Optimus said-”

“Well, Optimus doesn’t _have to_ _ know_ _-_ ”

“Hey, guys,” Raf said, sitting down across from them. “What’s going on?” Miko clutched her computer to her chest defensively. Jack pinched his nose bridge.

“Miko’s being reckless again and looking at Starscream’s blog,” he said flatly. Miko scowled at him, but Raf leaned forward in curiosity.

“Really? Can I see?” He asked. Jack was appalled.

“ _ Raf! _ ” He snapped. Raf had the decency to look a bit chastised.

“Well, the Autobots said we’re not allowed to  _ interact_\- they didn’t say anything about  _ looking_,” he suggested hesitantly. Miko cheered. Jack scrubbed at his face. 

“I give up,” he grumbled. Miko beckoned Raf over to her other side, presenting him with the computer.

“I was laughing because he reblogged a work meme and wrote an  entire _rant!_ Look, see?” Raf pushed his glasses back up his nose. He certainly _did_ see.

“Wow, that’s... A lot,” he said, skimming over the swear-riddled fifteen-paragraph testament to Starscream’s grievances with the Decepticon cause (not named directly, of course- but still fairly obvious). Miko giggled.

“Look, it even goes into the tags!” She said, clicking on them and doubling the size of the post. Raf blinked.

“Good grief,” he whispered. He read a bit, and then started giggling anew. “Oh my gosh, he calls Megatron a ‘trash compactor!’” Jack couldn’t help but sputter at that.

“Wait,  _ seriously?_” He asked, sidling up to his friends and grabbing the computer so he could see better. Miko smacked his hand and took it back. “Ow!”

“No computer for the treacherous scraplet-fragger,” she snapped. Jack furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” Miko shrugged.

“Starscream said it. I thought it was funny.” Jack grimaced. 

“ _Please_ don’t start quoting Starscream, I’ll be legally obligated to smash your laptop and flush it down the toilet.” Miko glared at him and tightened her grip on the computer. 

“I don’t think  _ Optimus _ would approve of that,” she teased. Jack gave her a flat look.

“ _Optimus _ doesn’t need to _know_ ,” he threw back. The two teenagers held each other’s gazes with narrowed eyes, only to be interrupted by another giggle from Raf.

“Guys, look- he’s complaining about helicopters!” He said. Jack and Miko abruptly dropped the staring contest to read the post. 

The rest of the day, the trio joked with each other about ‘sub-par maximum velocity’ and ‘an absolutely _obscene_ amount of rotors.’


	2. Feet DNI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream learns the ropes. The children continue to break rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys!!! Thanks so much for all the positive feedback, you’re all amazing!!

Starscream decided that, out of all the horrid little squish-organisms on this planet, he hated birds the least. 

Of course, their speeds were _pathetic_ and they were covered in bizarre fibrous appendages, but at  least  they were clever enough to fly _at all._

Starscream also came to the conclusion that human biology was malevolent and full of little pockets for hiding things. What could a human pull out of its disgusting, wet little orifices at any given time? What were they hiding?  What  on Unicron’s decaying carcass did they use those tiny little pede-digits for?!

No. He did not like them and their secrets.

He said as much on his blog, especially about the pede problem.

“As an actual, real member of the human species,” he had typed out, “I suggest that we all remove our bizarre, disgusting little ground-roving stabilizers and replace them with something more sensible. Like cinderblocks.” 

He had gotten several comments on that, the first of which was: ‘you mean feet???’ Everything that followed was some variation or another of ‘anti-foot,’ ‘foot-havers dni,’ or ‘footphobic.’ It was becoming very popular- someone had even created a striped banner and dubbed it the ‘footphobe pride flag.’

He chuckled in satisfaction as he noticed another comment that said ‘reblog to replace your disgusting ground-roving stabilizers with cinderblocks.’ Good, his campaign was gaining popularity. Soon, there would be one less problem in the universe. He was brilliant!

“Hm,” he muttered to himself, registering a notification in his messages. “It seems weedbaby69 has returned to pester me.” 

‘ _ Hello! _ ’ Said the message. ‘ _ What’s up? :)’ _ Starscream blinked.

Beg pardon?

‘ _ Anywhere that isn’t down, _ ’ he replied. 

‘ _ Lmao, _ ’ said weedbaby69. ‘ _ How are you doing? _ ’ 

Starscream did a quick search. 

“Ah! L-m-a-o. Slang. Stands for ‘laughing my ass off.’” He frowned. “What in the Pit is an ‘ass?’” 

He searched that up, too- and learned many fun new synonyms for a human’s rear end. Satisfied with his findings, he returned to tumblr.

‘ _Why are you laughing off your derrière_?’ He asked. 

‘ _Adafdsgsgsgdfjgjfj_ , ’ replied weedbaby69. Starscream blinked, then sighed.

“Oh dear,” he muttered. “ _Another_ abbreviation. This is going to be tedious.”

Humans were such  _ demented _ little creatures.

...

It had been a couple weeks since the kids had discovered Starscream’s blog, and Raf was swinging wildly between hating the mech and pitying him. 

He was still all kinds of mad that Starscream had hurt Bumblebee when he’d lost his t-cog, and he wouldn’t deny the smug sense of justice he’d gotten when Starscream had made a post bemoaning that he’d been ‘betrayed’ and had ‘lost an important organ.’

... And _then_ , in an act of flagrant disobedience, Raf may or may not have left an anonymous message to Starscream explaining that he probably deserved what he’d gotten, given who he’d chosen to ally with.

Starscream’s response to his ask had been long, nasty, and... Unfortunately kind of justified. It left Raf feeling a bit like an idiot.

‘ _Oh, get _ fragged! _ You don’t know anything about me and my situation, and you don’t know why I did anything! Do you think I  wanted to align myself with a bunch of traitorous, filthy organ thieves?!  _

_ Admittedly, it was a colossal error in judgement, but  _ I am starving!

_ But, of course you don’t know that- you just want to  _ moralize _ like an insufferable..._’

It went on and on and on. Raf really,  really  hated to admit it, but the guy had a point. Sort of. 

And, well. The Autobots  had  kind of put him in that position- they couldn’t really be mad at him for being a decepticon right now, because he left them.  Willingly.

... On the  _ other _ hand-

“Hey, Raf! Whatcha doing?” Miko chirped, bounding up the steps to their platform two at a time. The boy realized he’d been staring blankly at his computer screen for ten minutes.

“Having a crisis,” he croaked. Ratchet glanced at them over his shoulder, raising an optical ridge.

“ _Crisis? _ Is everything alright?” He asked. Raf momentarily bluescreened.

“Uh, well- an  _existential_ crisis,” he said. “You know, like ‘why are we here, what is our purpose?’ That sort of thing.” 

Miko was seized by a sudden coughing fit when she saw what was on his computer screen. Ratchet scoffed.

“What’s there to have a crisis  _ about? _ Everything is an accident and ultimately devoid of meaning or purpose. Existence is a circus of tragedy and mistakes.” At the kids’ unsettled expressions, he hastily reset his vocalizer. “Well. Life doesn’t  _ need  _ a meaning, anyway- we’re here and that’s that. Best not to waste your time thinking about it.”

Raf blinked.

“Um. Thanks, Ratchet. That was...” He looked to Miko, who shrugged. “Helpful?” 

Ratchet grunted, pursing his lips awkwardly, and returned to his work to avoid further conversation. 

Arcee and Jack returned from a patrol, entering through the tunnel. The two-wheeler transformed immediately after her companion slid off the seat, stretching her limbs. 

Ratchet glanced at Miko and Raf again, fidgeting uncomfortably.

“Arcee- wonderful!” He called, beckoning her to the storage area. “Come help me find some... Things.” 

“Cool,” Arcee said, unsubspacing a couple rather large, solid-looking rocks. “I need to add these to my collection. Should I categorize them under ‘denters,’ or ‘paint-scratchers?’” 

Their conversation trailed off as they disappeared further into the base, leaving the kids alone.

“What’s up?” Jack asked after he climbed up their loft-area. Raf put his face in his hands, displacing his glasses.

“I sent Starscream Anon hate,” he blurted. 

“ _ What?! _ ” Jack and Miko shouted simultaneously, albeit with wildly contrasting tones.

“ _Raf_... ” Jack whined nervously, pulling at his own hair. Miko cackled.

“Dude, what did you  say? ” She asked, sidling up to him and peering at his computer screen. 

“Why would you  _ do  _ that?!” Jack wheezed. “You’re going to get  _ killed!_” 

Miko giggled at Starscream long-winded response.

“Wow, _somebody’s_ butthurt!” She crowed. Raf snatched his laptop back away from her.

“It’s not  _funny_ ,  Miko!” He snapped. “He’s- he’s got a point.” 

Both Jack and Miko froze, staring at him incredulously. 

“Wait, seriously?” Miko asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “Remember when he helped the jerks who took ‘Bee’s T-cog? Or how he killed Cliffjumper? Or how he  _ tried to  _ kill  _ me in a cave?!_”

“For once, I’m with Miko,” Jack said, crossing his arms. “You  _ can’t  _ be serious!” 

Raf looked away guiltily, but he pushed the laptop at them.

“Just... Just read it.  _ Really  _ read it.” 

Jack hesitantly took the computer, and he and Miko began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raf is a very sweet boy with lots of compassion but he is also in possession of a brain that is not done developing and as such makes bad decisions.


	3. Starscream Makes Bad Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids continue to lie. Starscream is a well-intentioned idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve got some headcanons in this chapter!!! 
> 
> Thanks so much for the continued support, y’all are the best.

By the time Ratchet and Arcee returned, the kids were looking quite ill. 

“Everything alright?” Arcee asked, quirking a worried optical ridge. 

Miko stiffened, Raf’s face soured even further, and Jack went white as a sheet. Before Arcee could approach them, Ratchet reached a servo out to stop her.

“I don’t recommend getting too close,” he muttered. “They’re having a  _crisis_. It appears to be infectious among humans.” 

Arcee stared at him a moment, then shrugged. 

“You know more about humans than me,” she murmured back. “Makes more sense than  _ mitochondria_\- how are they part of a human, separate life forms,  _ and  _ microscopic power plants? That  _ has _ to be fake.” 

Ratchet patted her shoulder sympathetically.

“I find it best not to ask,” he said. 

Arcee glanced back over to the humans and frowned.

“I’ll talk to them,” she said quietly, “see if there’s anything I can do.” 

For a brief moment, Ratchet appeared troubled by something, but he quickly smoothed his face back over.

“Great. Good luck.” He shuffled awkwardly over to his workstation, deliberately avoiding looking at the humans. His antenna receded slightly into his back as he did so.

“Hey, guys,” Arcee said as casually as she could, sidling up to the platform. The kids looked up at her curiously. “Ratchet told me you were having some _issues_. Do you you want to talk about it?” 

The kids collectively blanched.

“ _No!_ ” Miko shouted abruptly, then froze. “I mean- um- talking doesn’t _help!_ The world is all dumb and pointless either way! Everything sucks, and we’re all going to _die!_ ”

Jack and Raf gaped at her, aghast. Arcee looked supremely uncomfortable. 

“Is that how you feel, guys?” She asked, leaning over the railing to peer at them more closely.

“... Yes?” Raf squeaked. Jack looked like he was going to puke.

Ratchet’s antenna receded further into his chassis, until only about a foot was left sticking out. Arcee frowned.

They were far too young to be despairing like this- something was clearly  _ very _ wrong. 

“... Okay,” she said, flashing them a thumbs-up. “Just, uh. Let me know if you need help with anything.”

She was going to have to consult Optimus about this.

...

“ _Miko!_ ” Jack hissed, rounding on her furiously. “What the _ hell?_” Miko shrugged helplessly.

“ _ I panicked! _ ” She whispered back. Raf wilted miserably.

“I  _ hate _ lying,” he mumbled. “It makes my stomach hurt.” 

Jack pulled at his own hair, visibly withholding a scream. 

This was just the  _worst_ day.

...

Starscream was having the  _best_ day!

Well. Aside from the whole not-having-a-t-cog business. Also, his impending starvation.

Okay, Starscream was having an  _ alright _ day, considering his less than ideal circumstances. In fact, he rather felt like one of the bound humans from that bizarre video Weedbaby69 had sent him, singing about looking on the ‘bright side of life.’

But, hey- he was allowed to take a break from his frothing rage once in a while! Especially for this momentous milestone!

_ Fifty-seven followers! _

That was enough humans to fill more than eight cubes! Soon, he would have an  _ army! _

Sure, humans were very lacking in the strength department, but if one stepped on enough of them their joints would get soaked with their disgusting salt-fluids!

And what, one might ask, did salty fluids do to internals? Oh,  _ nothing _ good. That was a recipe for a rust infection. 

Plus, getting one’s joints gummed up with organic viscera was disgusting and distracting enough for one to get taken down by  real  weapons. 

It was  _ brilliant!  _

Now, he just needed a few thousand more.Simple enough. He chuckled darkly.

“Megatron won’t know what hit him,” he said, leaning against the ancient console and inspecting his dulling claws.

Oh, dear- he’d have to sharpen them sometime soon. Something blinked in the corner of his optic. 

“Ah, my favorite minion!” He purred. When he finally had his army, Weedbaby69 would be one of his most trusted lieutenants. 

‘ _ Hi, _ ’ said the message. ‘ _ Is it ok if we chat rn? I need someone to talk to. _ ’ 

Starscream blinked. Well, why not?

‘ _ Certainly, _ ’ he replied. 

‘ _ I came out as trans to my parents today. They screamed at me and now I’m in my room and they won’t stop arguing. _ ’ Starscream froze.

Well, then.

He’d had to look up what ‘trans’ meant a few days ago, and simply put it was a human who deviated from their assigned gender-caste. It frequently involved changing pronouns and parts of one’s physiology to match.

As a caste-breaker himself, he could empathize. 

‘ _ I’m really scared that they’ll kick me out,’ _ Weedbaby69 continued. ‘ _ I’m 18 now so they won’t get in trouble if they do. _ ’

Oh, now this was getting  _ painfully  _ close to home. 

‘ _ Do you have anywhere else to go? _ ’ He asked. 

‘ _ No _ ’

‘ _All my friends are in _ _collefe_ ’

‘ _ I’m really scarwd _ ’

The messages came in quick succession, increasingly frantic. 

Starscream was starting to get a bit angry. 

He remembered when he’d been thrown out by his family after he’d announced his plan to join the intellectual caste. 

He remembered how everybody he knew had insisted on using military-caste pronouns for him, even when he was at the top of his class. Well, everyone except-

He remembered how he had been treated with revulsion by his peers, professors,  _ government_-

Needless to say, he was feeling more for this human in particular than he ever had for the entire rest of the species. 

‘ _ Are you alright? _ ’ He asked, knowing full well that his little internet acquaintance was _not_. ‘ _ Are you safe? _ ’

No answer. He waited a minute.

Five minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

No answer.

A tingling sensation curled in the pit of his tanks, a mixture of anxiety and excitement. He knew that feeling intimately well. 

It generally occurred before he was about to do something really, really stupid.

...

Now, Starscream was no Soundwave, but tracking the human’s IP address had been fairly easy. 

What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was that Weedbaby69’s domicile would be in such a heavily populated area. In his defense, he had been in a hurry. 

He regretted not double-checking when he was met with a rather busy neighborhood full of gawking, screaming humans upon exiting the groundbridge.

Ah, well- he could work with that. 

He quickly spotted the rather small house that matched the address.

“How am I supposed to see who’s in there?!” He muttered to himself, crouching in front of a tiny window to peer in at the terrified inhabitants. 

Stupid humans. So _inconsiderate_.

In retaliation for the ridiculous vermin being too small to properly handle, Starscream ripped a hole in the roof. 

A trio of fleshlings gaped up at him.

“Which one of you is Weedbaby69?” He asked, eyeing them critically.

One of them screamed, and the other dropped something that shattered all over the floor, as if they had been about to throw it. 

Starscream rolled his optics.

“I don’t have all day, you know,” he snapped. The Autobots would no doubt arrive at any minute.

The third one peered up at him with a tear-stained little face and raised a shaky servo. 

“Excellent.” He grabbed the terrified teenager, opened the groundbridge, and strolled through- completely ignoring the chorus of horrified screaming he left in his wake, and the panicked struggling of his captive.

_Mission successful!_ He mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so basically I’ve decided that Cybertronian gender is based on caste. When they came to earth, they each just kind of picked one of ours so that they could fit in the context of our languages.
> 
> Megatron flipped a coin and made everyone go with he/him pronouns to avoid confusion. Most of the Autobots followed Optimus, who also picked at random, except Arcee for reasons unknown. Airachnid showed up late to the party and picked out her own before she got stuck with the ‘cons.
> 
> The only person in Starscream’s life who consistently used the right pronouns for him was Skyfire. Megatron used to, but stopped once he got more abusive as another way of hurting Starscream. 
> 
> Some caste-changing cybertronians change their alt-modes to fit their new role, but Starscream and Skyfire chose not to (both were formerly military caste).
> 
> They view human gender through the caste-lense, and they’re right for the most part. Human gender is kind of a caste system, in my opinion.
> 
> Anyway, Starscream is the (very rough) equivalent of a trans person without dysphoria. Weedbaby69 is a trans woman.
> 
> Trans rights!


	4. Congratulations On Your New Kid! No Refunds.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus gets Pissed. Starscream tries to deal with a teenager.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your continued support, it means the world!!! :)

“ _ Prime! _ ” Agent Fowler bellowed, marching up to the human-platform. “You need to fix your Starscream problem, ASAP!” 

“What is wrong, Agent Fowler?” Optimus asked, bending down until his face was a mere few feet away from the human’s.  


The Prime had a bad habit of invading people’s personal space on accident, and it seemed no one had the heart (or _spark_ ) to let him know.

Fowler didn’t budge. 

“Your ‘Con  _kidnapped_ a teenager in Oklahoma _fifteen minutes ago!_ ” He shouted. “ _And _ blew his cover to the whole world! I thought you said you had a  _ handle _ on him!” 

Optimus’s optics widened, and he stepped back. Fowler felt a sort of tingling in the back of his brain, and broke out in goosebumps.

He knew from impromptu Cybertronian biology lessons that they tended to broadcast their emotions in a controlled electromagnetic field. Humans, though generally unaware of it, could sense them on occasion if the bot in question was feeling strongly enough. 

At that moment, Optimus was feeling something that activated Fowler’s fight-or-flight response. Judging by the visible discomfort of the Autobots behind Prime, his assessment was fairly accurate. 

The man still didn’t budge. 

“Based on the footage I’ve seen, he has access to a groundbridge. Figure out what’s going on and  _ fix it._” He took a deep, calming breath. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go tackle a  _ mountain _ of paperwork. I’ll send you the reports once they’re released to me.” 

“Thank you, Agent Fowler,” Optimus said, nodding respectfully. “Rest assured that I will do everything in my power to find the human.” 

Fowler nodded back, ignoring the pricklingsensation at the base of his skull. He tried not to think about what the poor kid was going through, having been a victim of Starscream’s ‘tender mercies’ himself.

...

“Oh, would you  _ stop that?!_” Starscream snapped, looking distinctly unimpressed with the panicking human in his grasp. “I just  _ saved  _ you, a little appreciation is in order!” 

Weedbaby69 hiccuped, shaking like a leaf, and stopped pounding ineffectually on his servo.

“Huh?” They asked, shrinking away from him. Starscream scoffed.

“Is human memory so poor that you can’t remember a conversation we had not _half an hour_ ago?” Weedbaby69 blanched.

“Wait,” they said, staring up at him with dawning horror, “are you ‘Normalperson123?’” 

Starscream cocked an optical ridge.

“ _Obviously_. And here I thought you were smarter than that.” He placed them down on a comfortable-looking ledge. “Of course, my  _ real  _ name is Starscream, but I couldn’t put that out there- you may address me as ‘my lord,’ ‘your excellency,’ ‘his royal highness,’ or any variant thereof.”

The human gaped stupidly.

“Uh, cool,” they said. “My name’s Elizabeth.” 

Ah, a  _ she-name_ _._ Duly noted.

“Well, Human Elizabeth,” Starscream declared, gesturing grandly at nothing in particular, “consider this the dawn of your  _ new life! _ I have released you from your shackles to society, and together we will forge a _new_ path  soaked  in the _blood of our enemies!_ We will amass a grand army that will  _ crush  _ anyone who stands in our way, and conquer  _ everything in our path_\- What?”

Elizabeth lowered her politely raised hand. 

“That sounds great and all, Mr. Starscream,” she said nervously, “but I’m not really down for the whole ‘imperialism’ thing. Do we  _ have  _ to do that?”

Starscream made a face like he’d bitten into a rotten lemon.

“ _ Yes! _ ” He snapped. “No more questions! Anyway-”

“I mean, killing and conquering is kind of...  _ Bad_,” Elizabeth continued, visibly sweating. “I’m sure there are plenty of normal,  _ non-destructive _ outlets for your energy.”

Starscream blinked. He was certain  _ Megatron  _ hadn’t had such a difficult time recruiting people!

“What could  _ possibly  _ be more worthwhile than  _ conquering the galaxy?!_” Starscream shouted frustratedly at the ceiling.

Elizabeth flinched, and the seeker drew back a bit when he realized how that had come off. He reset his vocalizer, tucking his wings back.

“What I _meant_ to say... Is that this is an  _ opportunity_,” he said slowly, pressing his servos together and leveling them at the teenager. “Think about it! Power, fame, glory- all of that! Don’t you  _ want  _ that?”

Elizabeth looked him up and down.

“Well, not at anybody else’s expense,” she replied. “Why do you even _want_ to hurt people so badly?”

Starscream’s optics briefly went unfocused as all the slights of five million years replayed themselves in his processor.

_ “... not leaving these grounds until your form is  _ perfect _...” _

_ “... utter  _ disgrace  _ to this household...” _

_ “... scores  _ must  _ be forged, just  _ look at him _...” _

_ “... do hereby sentence you to execution by firing squad...” _

_ “... are you prepared to make the  _ ultimate sacrifice? _” _

_ “... will be a  _ miracle  _ if you survive what I have planned-” _

“Uh, hello?” Elizabeth asked, waving her little organic servos to get his attention. “You alright?”

Starscream realized he’d been staring into space for several seconds, and blinked.

“To answer your question,” he said primly, “I am motivated entirely by pure, unbridled  _bloodlust_.” 

Elizabeth looked at him like he’d just eaten a live cockroach right in front of her.

“... Neat,” she said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Optimus is made of sunshine and love, but he also casually ripped Knockout’s door right off his arm once, so. Big scary papa bear.
> 
> Also, I only misgendered Elizabeth in the first half because Starscream didn’t know her gender.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Don’t forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	5. Digging the Hole Deeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream gets to know his new companion. The whole world is in an uproar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so much for all the comments and kudos, they always brighten my day! Here’s another!

An hour after Starscream had confiscated Elizabeth, he was still struggling to convince the ungrateful whelp to join him. 

“Seriously, there isn’t _anything else _ you want to do with your life?!” She exclaimed incredulously, making dramatic gestures with her squishy little servos. “Come on, you’ve gotta at _least_ have a  _hobby!_ ” 

Starscream, equally incredulous, squinted at her. 

“I’m offering you  _everything_ ,  what more could you _possibly_ want?!” He asked, furrowing his optical ridges. The human curled her lip in confused disgust.

“I don’t know, a little  _ happiness_, maybe?” She scrunched up her face thoughtfully. “And HRT.”

Starscream squinted harder.

“Power,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a toddler, “can buy you  _ many _ HRTs.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.

“Why do you think it’s okay to hurt others for your own gain?!” Starscream blinked rapidly.

“ _Everybody _ does that, it’s nothing _new!_ ” He cried, throwing his arms up in the air. 

Elizabeth shook her head vigorously, looking like Starscream had suggested she start shoveling dirt into her mouth, rather than a perfectly reasonable statement of fact.

“No?” She said. “That’s not how people generally  work! ” 

Starscream could see that they were going nowhere with this.

“Well, you’re wrong. We’re conquering the galaxy, and that’s  _ final!_” Elizabeth scowled at him.

“Oh, yeah? Who said  _ you  _ were in charge?” 

“ _ Me! _ ” Starscream shouted, jabbing his thumb-digit at his chassis. Elizabeth didn’t waver.

“And why do you think  _ you  _ should say who’s in charge?” 

Starscream wanted to blow something up.

“I’m older than you, bigger than you, and you  _ owe _ me!” He exclaimed. Elizabeth crossed her arms.

“Oh, yeah- great way to determine whether or not someone is fit to lead.” She deadpanned. “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my  _ real _ dad!” Starscream grit his denta.

“I’m not  _ anybody’s  _ ‘dad,’ but in terms of authority figures I’m certainly better than your  _ old _ ones!” 

It was like he’d slapped her across the face (which he  wouldn’t \- she would probably go into shock and die like that large, grazing organic he’d accidentally kicked once). 

Her optics got wetter, pooling with weird organic coolant, and her servos began to shake. 

  
Starscream tensed.

“Wait, what are you doing? _Stop that!_ ” 

Elizabeth slumped heavily against the wall and slid into a fetal position, pressing her squishy face into her blunt knees. Starscream heard a whine, and her shoulders started shaking. 

Oh, frag.  _ Really? _

“Oh, _calm down!_ ” He snapped, crossing his arms impatiently. “You’re _fine_ , now!” 

Elizabeth just seemed to cry harder. Starscream was starting to panic. 

“I’m serious! Stop being sad!” He looked around desperately, hoping for a magical solution to appear out of thin air. “That- that’s an  _ order!_”

As the humans put it, no dice.  Ugh.

_ Fine. _

“You stay there,” Starscream said, forgetting that she was on a rather high ledge and couldn’t actually go anywhere. 

He hurried to his console and typed in ‘how to fix sad human.’

...

Soundwave couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but at the same time felt that he shouldn’t be surprised.

Out of all mecha in the universe, of  course  the one to ignore Starscream’s decision to avoid the humans would be  _ Starscream himself. _

Idiot. 

‘ _ Lord Megatron, _ ’ he commed. ‘ _ News of Starscream. _ ’ 

Megatron, who was busy standing at the viewport and staring dramatically at Earth’s horizon, turned to face him with a raised optical ridge.

“Soundwave, unless it is of direct consequence to the Decepticons, I do not wish to hear it.” 

Soundwave quietly resented that his lord would imply that he would ever waste his precious time on trivialities, but persisted. 

‘ _ Information: highly significant. _ ’ He pinged back. 

Megatron looked at him expectantly. Soundwave pulled up the news report on his console, drawing the attention of the entire bridge.

_ “... Not two hours ago, some sort of giant robot was spotted kidnapping a teenager in Ponca City, Oklahoma. According to eyewitness reports and footage of the incident, it entered through some sort of portal, smashed a hole in the house, and pulled him out.” _

A shaky, grainy video appeared on the screen, and the sound of human screams filled the bridge. 

There Starscream was, in all his stupid, stupid glory. 

Megatron looked a combination of disgusted and surprised. 

_ “The abductee is eighteen-year-old Jonathan Smith, and his parents have neglected to comment. A spokesman from the Department of-” _

Soundwave switched the feed off, and Inclined his head at Megatron in a sort of ‘I-told-you-so’ gesture. 

The warlord growled, turning back to face the viewport.

“ _Find him,_ ” he commanded. “Bring him back  _alive_.  I’m going to rip off his wings and toss him in a smelter.” 

Soundwave nodded, and resumed his work.

...

This time, Starscream knew he was bridging into a highly populated area, so the shocked screaming and camera flashes were of little concern to him- he was entirely focused on his target.

Ah, _Malwart_. The human market that sold everything. 

Conveniently, it was almost as tall as he was. He tore out a huge chunk of the wall and hunched to get inside, tucking his wings close to his chassis. 

Immediately, his crest bumped into a light fixture, breaking it.

“ _Ow!_ ” He hissed, ducking further. Stupid human architecture and its pathetic size. 

He waved dismissively at the few humans without the good sense to get out of his way.

“What are _you _looking at?!” He snapped. “Shoo! ” 

That seemed to do the trick. Excellent.

His first priority was food. He grabbed an entire cart of dead organic vegetation and put it in his subspace. He walked a little further, tipped a shelf over, and collected what fell onto the floor. Not too far away, he spotted racks of colorful human drapery-

“ _ Starscream! _ ” Bellowed Optimus Prime from outside.

_Oh, frag._ Scrap, scrap, scrap, scrap, scrap.

He grabbed an armful of the human fabrics, activated his groundbridge, and scurried through as quickly as he could.

He could hear the Autobots shouting behind him as he closed the bridge, slumping against the wall of the Harbinger in relief. 

Mission accomplished. 

...

Arcee and Bumblebee, being the only two on the team who could fit into a human supermarket comfortably, skidded to a stop when Starscream’s groundbridge closed. 

Bumblebee beeped curses. Arcee frustratedly activated her comms.

“We lost him,” she said tiredly. 

Suddenly, she was aware of the multitude of human eyes on her. A phone camera flashed. She froze. 

“Uh,” she said, “nothing to see here. Bye.”

She transformed and sped out as fast as her wheels could take her. Bumblebee, being a car and thus more likely to run into someone in a confined space, was left to sprint behind her.

...

“I have returned!” Starscream announced, striding proudly into old the storage room he’d left Elizabeth in. 

Thankfully, the human had stopped crying, but she still looked absolutely miserable. Starscream carefully scooped her into his servos, causing her to yelp. 

He brought her into the console room and deposited her on a counter next to the massive pile of provisions he’d accumulated. Elizabeth gawked.

“There,” Starscream said proudly. “Now, you are obligated to stop being sad.” 

Elizabeth looked between him and the pile, then smiled. 

“Thanks,” she said. “I really appreciate- _ Oh_, are those  _ dresses?_” 

She ran to the pile of clothing with a squeal.

Starscream, not knowing what a dress was, had no idea what she was talking about.

“Okay, it’s official: I would  _ die  _ for you!” She hugged a particularly sparkly garment, stroking it lovingly.

Starscream blinked, unsure of how to respond to such an enthusiastic declaration of loyalty. 

“... I see,” he said.

Perhaps he had found his bargaining chip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Elizabeth is emotionally processing like 6 different things at once. I only deadnamed her in the news report because they don’t know that she’s a she (she’s very much in the closet. It’s Oklahoma.) This is my story and I’ve decided none of the main characters are going to be transphobic at all, ever. Not even Megatron. 
> 
> But, hey! Now she’s got food and sparkly dresses! Very important things to have.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading! Don’t forget to leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	6. Bonding With Your Human Companion: A Guide on What to Do and What Not to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and Elizabeth are still figuring out what the hell is going on. Bulkhead and Miko talk about their feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys!!! Sorry for the long-ish (for me) wait between chapters, sometimes I get stuck in the middle of scene and stop writing for awhile. 
> 
> Thanks for all your amazing comments, they make me so happy!!!

“So, what even  _ are  _ you?” Elizabeth asked the next morning, having emerged from the pile of clothing she was using as a makeshift bed. 

Starscream paused in sorting his fuel into (admittedly, probably too small) rations. 

“Oh- I’m a seeker,” he said.

He didn’t elaborate, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Elizabeth furrowed her eyebrows.

“So, you find things?” She asked. Starscream spluttered.

“ _No! _ Where would you get  _ that _ idea?!” Elizabeth gave him a deadpan stare, which didn’t seem to translate. “Seekers are the fastest flying frametype in Cybertron, generally members of the military caste.” 

“Wait, so there are  _ more  _ of you?” She asked. Starscream’s expression fell.

“Well, there  _ used  _ to be, back before the war,” he muttered. 

“ _War?!_ ” Elizabeth looked more confused than ever. “Where do you even  _ come  _ from?” 

Starscream cast her a sideways glance. 

“Cybertron.”

Silence.

  
“I don’t know where that is,” Elizabeth said flatly.

Starscream gestured somewhere over his head, screwing his face up in thought.

“Somewhere on the other side of the galaxy, I think.” He frowned. “Or perhaps the next one over? Haven’t been there in _ages_ , I can’t quite remember.” 

Elizabeth gaped.

“You’re an  _ alien?!_” She shouted. Starscream furrowed his optical ridges.

“Did I forget to tell you all that?” He asked. 

“ _ Yes! _ ” Starscream‘s wings fell sheepishly.

“... Oops.”

“You owe me  _ so  _ many answers!” Elizabeth exclaimed. 

A terrible smile worked its way across Starscream’s face. He  _ never _ turned down an opportunity to talk about himself. 

“Well,” he began, “it all started when I was wrongly imprisoned for murder...”

Elizabeth gaped, mouthing ‘ _ what? _ ’ Starscream didn’t notice, too wrapped up in his life’s story.

“I was freed in a prison break, and soon after began my glorious and successful military career...”

He just kept talking, throwing all sorts of weird bullshit up into the air as if were completely mundane. Elizabeth struggled to wrap her head around it.

The whole thing lasted an  _ hour_. 

“So, let me get this straight,” the teenager said finally, rubbing her temples. “You’re an alien war criminal that turns into an airplane and is currently enemies with all the  other aliens on this planet, except you can’t fly right now because a secret group of human terrorists you were working with because you’re running out of food stole the organ that lets you do that.” 

“Yes,” Starscream replied with a completely straight face. Elizabeth took a deep breath.

“ _Why_ were you on  _tumblr?!_ ” The seeker hunched a bit.

“I was lonely,” he muttered. Elizabeth’s eyes widened. 

“Wait,” she whimpered, “you’re not going to try to cut off my feet, are you?”

Starscream frowned at her.

“What on Primus’s rusty rear end is a  _ feet?_” He asked. 

  
“I’m not telling you, I’m afraid of what you’ll do to them,” Elizabeth replied, crossing her arms.

“Whatever,” Starscream grumbled, returning to his task.

...

The kids were all huddled around Raf’s computer like it was a heat lamp in the Arctic, a sight that had become as familiar as it was concerning to the bots. They couldn’t help themselves- piecing together the mystery that was Starscream had become their new favorite hobby. 

Currently, they were over-analyzing one of his older rants. Raf had a notebook in his lap, writing down possible meanings for the intentionally vague complaints in the diatribe. Jack was murmuring ideas to him, pointing at various lines in the near-solid wall of text. 

Miko was, for once, mostly silent as she tried to picture Starscream as a sympathetic figure. It was taking awhile. 

“Hey, Miko,” Bulkhead called, approaching the platform with a worried expression. “Wanna go for a ride?” 

She looked up from her lap, then to the two boys next to her, and shrugged.

“Sure,” she said. 

Wordlessly, she stepped into his outstretched servo.

Neither of them said anything until they were out on the open road.

“Hey, Bulk,” she asked, leaning despondently against his door, “what do you do if you find out someone who sucks isn’t a complete jerk? How do you know it isn’t fake?”

Bulkhead’s frame seemed to sink on its suspension as he let out a long sigh.

“Aw, Miko,” he said, “people are complicated. Optimus says there’s a little good in everyone.” 

The teenager frowned. 

“Well, what do  _ you  _ think?” Bulkhead hummed.

“Well, honestly... I think some people are just plain scrap,” he replied. “I’m pretty sure there ain’t any good left in Megatron, or Starscream, or any of the other Decepticons. I’ve seen them do a lot of awful things.” 

Miko frowned, letting her face squish against the window.

“But, what if one of them started being less of a jerk?” She asked, wringing her hands in her lap.

She remembered  _ Starscream’s  _ hands- big enough to hold her, Jack, and Raf with room to spare, grabbing at her in the dark while she barely had the energy to get away... 

“... Well, I guess it would depend on the ‘con,” Bulkhead replied. “You been having trouble with someone lately?”

Miko snapped out of her reverie.

“Um, not really? I don’t know.” She pushed off the window and flopped back against her seat. “This guy’s just a butt. And lately I found out a couple things about him, and now I feel kind of bad for him, but I still hate him.” 

Bulkhead pulled up to the edge of a cliff, let his passenger out, and transformed back into root mode. He took a seat, letting his legs hang over the side. Miko joined him, leaning against his side.

They stared at the horizon in silence. 

“You know,” Bulkhead said, glancing down at his charge, “you don’t have to forgive everyone. Not even if they apologize. It’s okay to not like this guy, even if he’s going through some scrap.” 

Miko thought about that, feeling the knot in her stomach unclench somewhat. She nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “Thanks, Bulk.” 

They sat there a moment longer, before Miko abruptly jumped to her feet.

“This is  _ boring_, wanna go try dune jumping again?” Bulkhead laughed, transforming and opening a door for her.

“Sounds awesome!” 

Miko cheered, and the radio started blasting heavy metal as they disappeared through a groundbridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh one trope in Starscream-redemption-fic I’m not a fan of is this idea that everyone needs to accept him unquestioningly just because he’s having a hard time. 
> 
> I love Starscream, he’s my absolute favorite second to none, but he’s pulled some pretty awful bullshit on the Autobots (though they’ve been kind of shitty to him sometimes as well). Arcee doesn’t need to forgive him (lord knows I wouldn’t), Miko doesn’t, Fowler doesn’t, Bumblebee doesn’t, etc.
> 
> I mean, he’s kind of a shitlord. Wherever this fic is going (I really have no idea), I think the dynamic between him and the Autobots is going to bittersweet at best.
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading!!! Don’t forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	7. Parent Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time for Armada! 
> 
> Starscream and Elizabeth do some chatting.
> 
> Warning: Some abuse (in the past)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the events of tfp are happening in the background now lmao
> 
> Anyway, thanks for all your amazing comments!!!! Y’all really know how to make an author feel special

“Starscream,  _ no!_” Elizabeth exclaimed, pulling at her messy hair. “That’s, like, five more mouths to feed!” 

Starscream glared at her sharply, swaying a bit on his pedes. Starvation was not doing him any favors.

“Shaddup! It’s a great plan, a  _ brilliant  _ plan!” He chuckled darkly. “Who better to entrust with the disposal of Megatron than  _ me?_” He turned on his heel and staggered his way to the room with the protoforms.

Elizabeth clambered down from the table she was on using a makeshift rope made of ill-fitting clothes. 

“Hey!” She called, chasing after him. “Get back here! This is a  _ bad idea! _ ” 

After about a week of living with Starscream, Elizabeth had come to one conclusion: the guy needed help. Like, serious, professional help. 

Unfortunately, seeing as there weren’t any spare robot therapists lying around, Elizabeth herself would have to suffice as a voice of reason.

She evidently wasn’t doing a very good job.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you  _ infant!_” Starscream slurred, waving a servo dismissively at her. “I’ve been doing plans like this a  _ long  _ time!”

He pricked one of his arms and got to work, mumbling to himself about ‘stabbing,’ and ‘armadas.’

Elizabeth gave up, returning to the table she’d claimed in the storage room.

...

Fifteen minutes later, Starscream came trudging back to her with a scowl. 

“Did it not work?” Elizabeth asked, trying not to sound too eager. Starscream slumped into a seat, pouting.

“Oh, it  _worked_ ,” he muttered. “And  _ they  _ all got t-cogs!” 

Elizabeth hummed sympathetically. 

“You know, you could use them to kidnap a medic and make them help you,” she suggested nonchalantly, picking at her nails. 

Starscream’s head swiveled towards her so quickly she thought it would fall off. 

“What?” He said in a small voice. Elizabeth shrugged.

“Yeah, I mean it’s not like you’re going to really hurt anybody, right?” She paused. “Wait-  please  don’t hurt anybody, that would make me cry again, and I know that makes you freak out- what?”

Starscream was gaping at her.

“Holy slag, that’s actually a good idea,” he murmured, then his optics widened. “Oh, scrap-”

Suddenly, he doubled over with a blood-curdling scream. Elizabeth scrambled over to the edge of the table.

“ _Starscream?!_ ” She shrieked. 

After an agonizing few seconds, Starscream uncurled with a haunted look in his optics.

“Well,” Starscream croaked, “I suppose I learned two things: one, I can feel their pain. Two,” he shuddered, “one of them is  definitely dead.”

Elizabeth gaped in horror. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” She asked, shimmying down her cloth-rope and running to his pedes. 

Starscream’s gaze had gone unfocused,until he blinked and looked down at her.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” he said. Elizabeth wrung her hands anxiously.

“I asked if you were okay,” she said. He blinked again, frowning.

“Well,  _yes_ ,” he replied. “It’s the ones on the  Nemesis you should be worried about. They don’t seem inclined to return.” 

Elizabeth felt a knot begin to form in the pit of her stomach. 

“Wait, why?” She asked. Starscream growled.

“They kept insisting that they were too close to killing him to quit,” he grumbled. “Stubborn idiots.”

Elizabeth stared at him.

“Wow,” she deadpanned. “That sounds so frustrating. You must be really upset.”

Starscream didn’t seem to get it.

“I  _know_ , right?” He complained, then offered a servo for her to climb up on. “See, _you_ get it. This is why you’re my favorite.” He deposited her on the console next to him, then gently ruffled her (admittedly, in need of a wash) hair with a digit tip.

Elizabeth sighed, feeling her frustration slip away. It was nice to have an authority figure that seemed to like everything she did- a definite upgrade from the nitpicking and vitriol she’d had to put up with from her parents.

“... Even if you’re going through some sort ‘pacifism’ phase,” Starscream continued, smiling condescendingly. “I’m sure you’ll grow out of it.”  


Elizabeth glared at him. The patronizing attitude she could definitely do without, however.

“I’m an adult,” she said flatly. Starscream cackled, doubling over and slapping his knee.

“Oh, that’s  _ cute_,” he howled. “You’re not even a  vorn old! ” 

“How long is vorn?” Elizabeth asked.

“Oh, about eighty-three years,” Starscream replied, wiping coolant from his optics. The teenager blinked.

“Uh, Starscream? That’s... About the average human lifespan,” she said. The seeker froze, smiling into empty air.

“Wait, what-  _ augh!_” He fell out of his chair and curled up in ball, hacking and convulsing. 

From her perch on the console, Elizabeth screamed.

...

The metal of the ground felt warm against Starscream’s pedes, an odd sensation for one who had spent his whole life above the clouds in the chilly spires of Vos. The city glittered in the distance, beckoning Starscream back to safety.

His cooling fans were at their highest setting as he fought not to collapse. He failed and fell to his knees with a  _clang_. 

  
Flying a complicated obstacle course full of tunnels, automated blasters, and pre-programmed drones multiple times had completely exhausted him, and he hadn’t refueled since he’d been dragged out of berth early that morning.

“Again!” Silverstreak barked, marching over to his creation and pulling him up by his wings. Starscream yelped at the rough handling of such sensitive appendages.

“I don’t- I don’t think I can keep going,” he slurred, stumbling sideways. “It’s been  _hours_.” 

“Don’t be  _lazy_ ,” Silverstreak spat, shoving Starscream back towards the course. “I was more agile than this when I was still _carrying_ you! War doesn’t give you  _ time _ for a break and a refuel!” 

“Maybe that’s why I came out so  _small_ ,” Starscream muttered, feeling too weighed down to even _try_ continue. His fuel levels were in the red, and his internals were in danger of overheating.

“Your size only means that you should be faster and more flexible than... Whatever _that_ was!” Silverstreak waved his servo towards the course with a disgusted expression. “You are not leaving these grounds until your form is  _ perfect!_” 

Starscream scowled at him.

“I really can’t do it again!” He protested. “I’m going to go into _stasis!_ ” 

Silverstreak grabbed him by the jaw, digging his claws into the mesh of Starscream’s face. The younger seeker shrank in fear, pinning his wings to his back.

Silverstreak was slender, but he was still more heavily-built than his stunted creation. He his height advantage to loom over Starscream.

“You are going to  _ finish that course_, and you are going to do it with  _ impeccable _ form- just the way I taught you,” he growled, “or I will be having words with your sire about all the time you  _ waste _ watching those  _ stupid _ little holodramas of yours that could be used for  _practice_.” 

He released Starscream, who sullenly rubbed his jaw. 

As inane as it sounded, Starscream _needed_ those scraps of free time he was allowed between training and recharge. They were the only thing- besides Thundercracker and Skywarp, of course- that kept him _sane_. 

As exhausted as he was, he had to make this work. 

“ _Fine_ , ” he sighed. 

He leapt into the air and transformed, aiming to navigate through the first narrow tunnel, pushing his thrusters to their limits and burning through what little fuel he had left.

He was scant meters away when the blinking notifications on his HUD flashed and disappeared, taking the rest of his visual feed with them. 

Starscream barely had the presence of mind to transform before he crashed face-first onto the ground, having fallen into stasis.

...

When the horrible, agonizing pain of what was definitely Megatron’s ire faded, Starscream felt something small and soft resting on his face. 

He onlined his optics (he hadn’t even realized that they were _off_ ) to see Elizabeth’s tear-stained countenance leaning over him. She had pressed one of her little servos to his forehead, as if trying to shake him awake.

That was when he realized that he was splayed across the floor with all the dignity of a rusted old dump truck, and quickly sat up and composed himself.

They stared at each other.

“Are you alright?” Elizabeth asked, wiping at one of her optics. 

Starscream felt a weird clenching sensation in his spark at the knowledge that she was genuinely _worried _ about him. He decided to ignore it. 

“Yes,” he said. “I think the clones all died.” 

Elizabeth ran to his side and pressed her body up against his waist with open arms.

“... What are you doing?” Starscream asked, unsettled by the feeling of a warm, squishy organism on his sparsely-armored middle. 

“Giving you a hug,” Elizabeth croaked. 

“Ah.”

She was getting salt-fluids all over his armor, but Starscream let her be. He’d wipe them off later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starscream is a really talented flier, and I’ve ruined it by deciding he got a lot of that via The Training From Hell.
> 
> His dad has a similar build, but is a head taller. That’s who he’s channeling when he’s in a position of command. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Don’t forget to comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	8. Be Hammy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan is in action. Lieutenant Elizabeth makes her debut, and has way too much fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your continued support, it motivates me!

As it turned out, one of Starscream’s clones _had_ survived. 

He strutted in wearing an expression he was all too familiar with, probably fully intending to try to kill him (laughable- Starscream  _ refused _ to die), took one look at Elizabeth’s sad little face, and stopped. 

“What did you  _ do?!_” He screeched, gesturing at her. Starscream scowled.

“ _Me?_ If you _idiots_ had come back like I told you to, you wouldn’t have scared her!” There was no way he was letting this clone know he could feel his pain, not when he obviously wished him harm. 

“This is so fucking weird,” Elizabeth said, looking between the two of them. “Also, stop arguing- you are literally the  _ same person!_” 

Starscream wanted desperately to argue with that, but one glance at his clone revealed that he was wearing a similarly mulish expression, so he shut up. Elizabeth turned to him.

“Anyway, do you think you can kidnap a medic with only one other guy?” She asked. 

Starscream stiffened.

“Oh, yes- we have a  _ plan!_” He announced. 

The clone raised an optical ridge.

“What  sort of plan?” He asked suspiciously.

Elizabeth grinned.

...

‘ _ This is trooper 45-B7 requesting reinforcements in mine 5-T56. We are under attack! _ ’ 

Soundwave sent commands to a squadron of Eradicons, then opened a comm channel with his liege.

‘ _ Mine 5-T56: Under attack. _ ’ Megatron grunted. 

“I see,” he replied. “By whom?” 

Soundwave connected to the on-site cameras and displayed the pertinent visual feed on his visor.

Two Starscreams- one shooting and one gathering resources as quickly as he could subspace them. 

Megatron saw red.

“ _Starscream_ ,” he growled, clenching his servos into fists. “Soundwave, bridge me in. It’s time I dealt with this pest-  _permanently_.”

...

Starscream finished subspacing as much energon as he could reasonably carry just as an Eradicon (thankfully in root-mode) collapsed nearby.

“I found one!” He hollered over the din. The clone rolled his optics.

“Make it quick!” He replied, kicking a vehicon in the neck in a flare of dramatic confidence Starscream himself hadn’t demonstrated since the war had shown him that fighting quick and dirty was the only way to survive. “It won’t take much more for them to overwhelm us!”

Starscream sighed. Of  _ course  _ the idiot would announce it to the world like that. He scrambled over to the dead Eradicon and lifted it over his shoulders. 

A bridge opened.

“ _Great_ ,” the clone griped, pulling his claws out of the chassis of another drone. “Not  _ more!_”

“ _Starscream!_ ” Bellowed a horribly, horribly familiar voice. “I am going to  _ rip you to shreds!_” 

Starscream and his clone froze.

“Get the remote!” Starscream screeched. “Go, go, _go!_ ” 

The clone clumsily unsubspaced the groundbridge remote and activated it with shaky servos. 

Megatron emerged from his own bridge, and seethed at their attempt to escape.

“ _ Coward! _ ” He roared.

Starscream sprinted through, tossing the dead frame in front of him and leaping the rest of the way. His clone blasted past him in alt-mode, transforming and closing the bridge just before Megatron could reach them.

The last thing they could see before it blinked out of existence was the warlord’s enraged snarl.

They both stared breathlessly at the empty air for a moment before Starscream doubled over in laughter.

“Did- did you  _ see _ his stupid face?” He wheezed. “He’s so  _mad_ ,  and he can’t even  do anything about it!”

The clone, markedly less addled by starvation, chuckled.

“That  _ was  _ rather amusing,” he agreed. 

“Oh, we are  so _dead!_ ” Starscream cackled. His clone frowned.

“Go get some fuel, you lunatic,” he said, then gestured at the crumpled remains of the Eradicon. “I’ll get the t-cog.”

Starscream stumbled off, giggling.

...

“Optimus,” Ratchet called over his shoulder.

“Yes, old friend?” The Prime asked, approaching the console the medic was working at.

“We’re being hailed... By _Starscream_.” The atmosphere abruptly tensed. “He says he has the human, and he wants me to come alone.” 

Suddenly, Optimus’s field erupted, permeating the space around him with heavy, oppressive anger. He was a big mech, and it reached far enough that the children fidgeted uncomfortably on their platform. Ratchet shuddered. 

Sometimes, it was easy to forget what the Prime was capable of. Even after all this time, it was difficult to wrap his processor around the fact that little Orion, the mild-mannered archivist, was now capable of taking on Megatron himself. 

Not that Ratchet blamed him for his rare display of murderous rage. No, the medic was also slagged to the Pit about it.

As much as he scorned humans, he really _did_ want to protect them. Raf’s dark energon incident came to mind, bringing with it a wave of shame and anger.

Jonathan didn’t deserve to die- and Ratchet was going to do everything in his power to prevent that from happening, even if it meant helping Starscream.

“I’ll do it,” he said. Optimus stiffened.

“I cannot allow-”

“-Any humans to come to harm, Optimus,” Ratchet finished for him. “We both know what could happen, should Jonathan prove to be an ineffective bargaining chip.” 

Optimus’s face remained impassive, but he didn’t stop Ratchet from gathering his supplies.

...

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably in Starscream’s grip, looking around the creepy forest they had chosen to wait in. 

“Could you... Maybe loosen it up?” She asked, squirming again. “This is really freaky.” 

Starscream brought his other servo under her feet, and his grip went slack. The teenager landed on his outstretched palm with a yelp.

“Better?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Thanks.” 

The seeker glanced down at her.

“Remember- let  _ me  _ do the talking. Just be quiet and look scared.” Elizabeth pouted.

“I wanna be  _ hammy!_” She whined. At Starscream’s confused expression, she continued, “Y’know, chewing the scenery? Over the top? Dramatic?” 

Starscream raised an optical ridge.

“... I will permit a reasonable amount of ham,” he conceded. Elizabeth grinned.

“ _ Yes! _ ” She did a victorious little wiggle-dance.

A groundbridge opened a short distance away, admitting one Autobot medic. Starscream took the teenager into one servo again.

Elizabeth stared. She’d gotten used to Starscream, but this was a completely different giant alien. He was stockier, with wheels instead of wings, and wore white and orange paint. It almost looked like he was wearing a helmet of some sort. 

“Good evening, Doctor,” Starscream purred. The medic fumed.

“ _Starscream_ ,” he spat. For a moment, Elizabeth felt bad about her plan- he clearly didn’t want her to get hurt. “Put him  _ down!_” 

Starscream blinked in confusion. Elizabeth frowned.

Logically, she knew that the medic didn’t know her real pronouns, but she still  _ hated _ to be misgendered. Not to mention, Starscream had grown on her- and she knew this guy had tried to leave him to die in the past. 

She didn’t like that, either. 

“Oh, thank  _ god!_” She cried, putting on her most absolutely distraught face. “He’s  _crazy_ \-  just do what he says, please!” She managed to shed a few Tears of Anguish by thinking about dead puppies.

_ Thank you, drama class. _

Ratchet transformed out his blades, scowling. Starscream chuckled darkly.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came a voice from the foliage. The clone emerged from the shadows, both his blasters trained on Ratchet. 

The medic froze, looking sick. 

Starscream unsunspaced the t-cog, tossing into the air and catching it with a smug grin.

“Here’s how this is going to work,  _Doctor_ ,” he sneered. “You are going to restore my flight capabilities, under my associate’s supervision, or I’m going to start  _squeezing_.” He tensed his servo around Elizabeth for emphasis, and the girl let out a dramatic, blood-curdling scream. 

The seeker spared her a concerned glance.

“Jesus, is that _you?_ ” Elizabeth wailed at the sky.

Ratchet looked murderous.

“Tick-tock, Autobot,” the clone mocked from behind him, stepping closer. “Better get to work. Imagine what would happen if the Prime were to lose his  _ only  _ medic.” He pressed the barrel of his blaster against Ratchet’s back, right over the location of his spark chamber. 

Ratchet reluctantly put his blades back. 

“... Fine,” he said defeatedly, shoulders slumping. 

“Excellent,” Starscream purred. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad for putting Ratchet through this, he deserves better. 
> 
> Don’t forget to comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading!!! :)


	9. Totally Duped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The terrible trio settles in. Ratchet spirals. The kids are freaking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! Thanks so much for all your comments, they mean so much to me and always make my day! Y’all are the best! :)

Handing Elizabeth off to the clone had been an awkward affair, involving circling  _ around  _ Ratchet at a radius well outside of grabbing distance and a good deal of threatening and screaming to keep the medic still.

He was half expecting the clone to take off and leave him there, but he had no choice but to trust him- he  _needed_ the sky so badly that he felt like his spark was going to burn through his plating. 

Denying any flier their birthright was an unparalleled act of cruelty. One he had dealt with before, and built up a tolerance to (Megatron was nothing if not sadistically creative), but awful all the same.

To his immense relief, he came out of medical stasis to the sight of Ratchet’s resigned face looming over him, field laced with anger and despair. 

He sat up, transformed his servos into blasters, then returned them to normal.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He purred. Ratchet glared.

“You’re  _evil_ ,” he said darkly, “and one day someone’s going to put you down like the  animal you are.” 

Starscream tsked, moving into a crouch. He rested an arm on one of his knees.

“ _Manners_ , Doctor,” he chided, crooking one digit under the medic’s chin and tilting his head up. “I thought you Autobots were supposed to be more  _ well-behaved_.” 

Ratchet scowled. Starscream leered.

The clone loudly reset his vocalizer.

“Ew, are you  _ flirting  _ with him?” Elizabeth shouted. “Right in front of the whole world and  _ god?_” 

Ratchet sneered in disgust. Starscream shot her a Look. 

“ _Prisoners _ don’t make implications about their  dangerous _captors_ ,” he said pointedly. Elizabeth muted it, but her expression told him that she was far from finished making fun of him.

“I am never doing that to any of my enemies  _ again_,” the clone muttered. Starscream scowled at him.

“Starscream, you got what you wanted,” Ratchet snapped. “Just give me Jonathan and go.” 

The two seekers shared a look, then burst into laughter.

“One,” Starscream said, “I don’t know who you  think this human is, but her name is  _ Elizabeth_. And two... Well, it would be rather foolish of me to get rid of such a  _ useful  _ asset, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Ratchet’s optics widened.

“Wait-”

Starscream’s clone transformed around Elizabeth, rocketing into the atmosphere. Ratchet snarled, bringing out his blades.

“So long,  _ Doctor!_” Starscream crowed. 

Before Ratchet could do anything, the seeker was high in the air.

...

When they reached the  Harbinger , Elizabeth emerged from the clone’s cockpit looking quite ill. She flopped flat on her back as soon as she was deposited on a table.

“Please,” she croaked, “never do a barrel roll with me inside  _again_.” The clone snorted.

“That was an  _aileron roll_ ,” he corrected, rolling his optics. “A barrel roll probably would have killed you.” 

Starscream gently scooped the human up, holding her away from his clone.

“Don’t  _ damage _ her, you idiot!” He snapped. “Lieutenant Elizabeth has more than earned a reward, I would say.”

The teenager sat up and squealed.

“Ohmygod, can I have  _ makeup? _ I’ve never worn makeup before!” 

Starscream’s face brightened in recognition.

“Oh, you mean the  _ human-paint?_” He tousled her hair with his digit-tip. “Of course! I  _ reward _ loyalty from my subordinates!” 

The clone reset his vocalizer.

“Then I believe a little ‘thanks’ are in order for keeping the Autobot in check,” he snapped. Starscream blinked at him.

“Oh- yes,” he said. “... Thank you.” 

They shared optic contact for a few seconds, sizing each other up, before the clone turned away.

“Of course,” he replied dismissively. “We are as one.” 

A small smile crept across Starscream’s faceplates before he could stop it.

“Makeup! Makeup! Makeup!” Elizabeth chanted, wearing a wide grin. Starscream rolled his optics fondly.

“Yes, yes- let me access the Azamon.”

...

Ratchet returned to the base looking very, very sick. 

“Starscream got away,” he said before anybody could ask questions. “He took the human with him.” 

The atmosphere of the base became heavy and quiet, and Team Prime stared at him in horror. Optimus’s field crackled and lashed out before he could stop it, causing everyone in the room to flinch. 

The Prime grimaced, and approached Ratchet.

“Are you harmed?” He asked, resting a gentle servo on the medic’s shoulder. Ratchet shook his head. “What happened?”

“He’s- he’s got this  _clone_...” 

Optimus’s face remained impassive as Ratchet reported the incident, field neutral and withdrawn. He guided his friend over to the berth in the medbay and gently pushed him to sit down. Ratchet did so without thinking about it, too wrapped up in his guilt to really notice. 

“... And now, there are  _ two  _ of him running around fully armed with a helpless captive, because I failed to stop him,” the medic finished. Optimus hummed.

“There was nothing you could have done that wouldn’t have risked the human’s safety,” he said. 

Ratchet’s antenna was completely withdrawn into his chassis.

“I could have  tried _harder_ ,” he insisted. 

Up on the catwalk, three guilty faces peered over the railing.

...

The next day, the children all sat at the same table in the corner for lunch. Miko snorted as she scrolled through tumblr on her laptop.

“I can’t believe they’re calling the ‘bots a ‘military experiment,’” she said disdainfully, using air quotes. “It’s so weird to see pictures of them all over the place online.” 

Jack grunted. Raf looked positively miserable. 

Miko frowned at her two friends, desperately searching for something to cheer them up.

“... Wanna send Starscream Anon hate again?” She asked. Jack made a face, and Raf stared at the table despondently. 

They hadn’t returned to Starscream’s blog since the incident between him and Ratchet, feeling guilty for feeling anything for the seeker at all. It was as if Miko had broken some unspoken rule between the three of them just by bringing it up. 

“ _C’mon_ ,” she goaded, elbowing jack playfully in the ribs. “You know you want to! We might even make him cry!”

Jack pulled away with a scowl.

“I don’t want to think about Starscream right now, Miko,” he snapped. The girl frowned at him.

“ _Fine_ , whatever. I was only trying to lighten the mood.” She returned to her laptop sulkily. “ I’m gonna do it .” 

“Cool,” said Jack. Raf was still staring at the table, poking at his food with a fork.

_ Party poopers. _

She found Starscream’s blog, already composing a scathing dressing-down that was sure to make him curl up in a ball and cry about his pathetic life (she could see it already- he probably sounded like a _baby_ ), when the most recent post caught her eye. 

‘Tfw you get disowned by your shitty transphobic parents and then adopted by two really tall weird dads in less two weeks,’ said some rando called Weedbaby69, with a picture of a football player saying ‘they had us in first half.’

‘Elizabeth, I am not your father,’ Starscream had replied. ‘Neither of us are your ‘dad.’’ 

‘Shhhhhhhhhh,’ Weedbaby69 said, ‘youre my dad now no refunds.’

‘You were not acquired through a transaction, and even if you were I would not give you back!’ 

‘Lmao see??? You’re totally my dad.’

‘I am your COMMANDING OFFICER-’

The argument continued for awhile. Miko’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. The boys looked up from their moping.

“What?” Raf asked. 

Miko shoved the computer at them.

“Dudes, we totally got duped!” She exclaimed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth’s title should be ‘pusher-of-luck,’ not ‘lieutenant.’
> 
> Also, Starscream gets really touchy-feely with his captives. I’m judging him hardcore. That chin-tilt thing? He does it THREE TIMES in the fucking show!
> 
> Poor Ratchet. I really do feel bad for putting him through this, I like him. 
> 
> The kids keep getting emotional whiplash.
> 
> Don’t forget to comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed, thank you for reading!!!! :)


	10. Motormouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids try to cheer Ratchet up, sort of. Starscream’s clone has fewer qualms about disclosing information than the original.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some nsfw dialogue. Nothing too bad, just chock full of implications.
> 
> Thanks so much for your enthusiasm, guys! Your comments always brighten my day and make me smile.

The next day, Ratchet still looked positively awful. He was entirely focused on fixing something with lots of twisted wires, having skipped out on recharge the night before.

The Autobots walked on eggshells around him, careful not to upset or anger the medic. The _last_ thing they needed was another spiral.

Unfortunately, such abnormally cautious behavior only made it worse.

“ _ Bulkhead! _ ” Ratchet snapped, slapping the wrecker’s servo away from a tangle delicate equipment. “Don’t touch _anything!_ ” 

“Sorry, Doc,” Bulkhead replied sheepishly, “just wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help.”

Ratchet scoffed and leveled him with a scornful glance.

“Puh- _lease_ ,” he sneered. “The most helpful thing you can do right now is find a less  _ breakable  _ environment!” 

Bulkhead held up his servos in surrender, backing out of the room. Ratchet huffed agitatedly and returned to his work. 

The kids watched tensely from their platform.

“ _I’m _ not telling him,” Raf murmured fearfully. Jack glared at him.

“ _ Seriously- _ ”

“Nose goes!” Miko tapped the tip of her nose with her index finger. Raf quickly copied her. Jack raised his eyebrows.

“Are you  _ kidding _ me?” He hissed. “This is so immature.”

“Cranky ‘cause you have to tell Doc-Bot he got played, aren’t you?” Miko teased smugly, pushing him at the railing.

Jack tried not to pout. He was seventeen years old, he did  not  pout.

“Why are you pouting, Jackson?” Ratchet asked, giving him a side glance. The boy stiffened.

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “We’re just... Worried about you.”

Ratchet stared at the trio a moment, before turning back to his work with a grunt. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

“Okay,” Jack said awkwardly. “Cool!” 

He scurried back to the couch, and Miko slugged him in the arm.

“ _Chicken!_ ” She hissed.

“Ow-  _ hey!_” 

Ratchet turned back around.

“What are you three  _doing?_ ” He asked incredulously. 

“Miko punched me in the arm,” Jack said. The girl threw her hands in the air.

“Wow! A chicken  _ and  _ a snitch!” Ratchet stared the three humans down.

“If you don’t cut it out, I’ll put you on a high ledge until Optimus comes back,” he warned. Miko snorted.

“No, you won’t!” She said. “He had to stop you from bubble-wrapping the stairs!”

Ratchet didn’t reply to that, silently pressing his mouth into a thin line. Miko marched up to the railing and jabbed a finger at him.

“If you’re so mad at Starscream, quit being a mopey jerk and  _ do  _ something about it!” The medic clenched his fists.

“What am I _supposed_ to  do?!” He asked. Miko rolled her eyes.

“He’s got a  _blog_ ,” she suggested, raising her eyebrows. “Duh.” 

Ratchet huffed.

“His blog hasn’t offered us any insight into his activities,” he replied. “It’s useless!”

“Oh, yeah?” Miko challenged. “When was the last time you checked it?” 

Ratchet went silent again.

“...  Fine,” he said, turning to the console. “I guess it’s better than nothing.”

Miko flashed Jack and Raf a smug smile over her shoulder.

Raf offered her a thumbs up.

“ _Two trucks, having sex! _

_ Two trucks, having sex! _

_ My muscles, my muscles, involuntarily flex!_ ” 

The kids stiffened, looking to the console. Ratchet was absolutely horrified, and paused the video before it could go any further. 

Miko collapsed onto the couch in a fit of badly-concealed cackling. Raf frowned, and Jack wrinkled his nose. 

“What is  _ wrong  _ with him?!” Ratchet exclaimed. He scrolled down.

‘This reminds me of the porn collection of someone I know,’ Starscream had commented.

“Nope,” the medic decided, and exited the blog. “Never again.” 

Miko was too busy laughing to notice that her plan had failed. 

...

“Elizabeth, are you _sure_ you know what you’re doing?” Starscream asked, eyeing his charge as she struggled with her makeup.

“Oh,  yeah,” Elizabeth replied, waving dismissively. “I’ve watched, like,  _ so  _ many tutorials online. I got this!” 

She cursed as she accidentally drew an uneven line with the liquid eyeliner, drawing another one over top of it and then moving to the next eye to even them out.

It was the fifth time she’d had to do so, and she was starting to look like a panda.

“... Okay,” Starscream said. 

“ _Fuck!_ ” Elizabeth hissed, accidentally flicking the eyeliner pen upwards to her eyebrows, leaving a stark line. “You know what? Eyeliner sucks, anyway!”

She tossed it off the table and grabbed the makeup wipes, shoving them into the broken ventilation system when they became too dirty to keep using.

The  _ Harbinger_, sadly, did not come with trash cans.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just spread the stuff all over your face, instead,” the clone said with a raised optical ridge. “You can hardly even tell that it’s there!” 

“That’s the  _point_ ,” Elizabeth said. “It tricks people into thinking you’re prettier.” 

Starscream snorted.

“Humans all look the same, anyway,” he said. “And  none of you are ‘pretty.’”

Elizabeth glared at him.

“... But  _ you _ are prettier than all the other humans,” Starscream hastily amended, laughing awkwardly. He glanced around. “When was the last time you fueled? Go consume sustenance! Shoo!”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and climbed down the rope ladder Starscream had stolen from a public playground, jumping the last few feet to the floor. She looked up at the two identical mechs.

“ _Y_ _ou _ are the prettiest robots,” she declared. Starscream and his clone burst into cackles.

“Oh, oh  _ no_-” cried the clone.

“I’m not _pretty_ , I’m  _ intimidating!_” Starscream said, wiping coolant from the corners of his optics. 

“ _Knockout _ is pretty,” the clone added. “ _I _ don’t particularly care about those sorts of things.” 

Starscream’s head swiveled towards his lookalike so fast he could have broken the sound barrier.

“Wait,  what?” He wheezed, optics going wide. “Why would you say that _out loud?!_ ” 

“Oh, shut it!” The clone replied, waving him off. “I mean, _aesthetically_ speaking-”

“ _ No! _ ”

“- He’s attractive!” The clone paused. “Well. For a  _grounder_.” 

Starscream looked like he’d been dunked in a bucket of ice water.

“Who’s Knockout?” Elizabeth interrupted. “Also, what’s a grounder?” 

“Knockout is weird and annoying, and grounders don’t fly,” Starscream answered absently, giving his clone a death glare. 

“Am I a grounder, then?”

“ What? ” Starscream looked at her incredulously. “No, you’re an _organic!_ ” 

“Go eat your food,” the clone added. 

Elizabeth shook her head and left. Behind her, the argument continued.

“Oh, come on! It’s not like I want to  _ frag _ him or anything-”

“ _How _ can you say he’s attractive when you’ve  _ seen _ his taste in porn?!”

“Ha! So you _admit_ that he has aesthetic appeal!” 

“Dump trucks, Starscream!  _ Dump trucks!_” 

“You haven’t denied it, Starscream!”

“ _Dump trucks fragging other dump trucks!_ ” A pause. “On top of a  _ shuttle!_”

“But  _aesthetically_ -”

“Too shiny, and also too short-”

“We _both_ know you’re making that up-”

“ _ Why is this the hill you’re willing to die on?! _ ”

“ _Shut up! _ I’m always right!”

“You’re full of  _ slag!_”

Elizabeth sat in the corner, munching on a bag of prepackaged popcorn as she recorded them with her phone.

“ _God_ , I wish I could post this,” she muttered.

“Fine! He’s  _ not ugly!_” Starscream snapped. “Better than  _ Shockwave_, at least.”

The clone snorted. Starscream shot him a warning glare.

“ _ Please _ , darling!” He crowed. “You liked that he-”

“ _ I regret making you! _ ”

“Then get  _ rid  _ of me, you coward!”

Elizabeth stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth.   
  


“My life is so _weird_ ,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao this is asinine, but it wrote itself.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, don’t forget to leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	11. Oh, Dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day!!!!!!
> 
> Elizabeth and Starscream bond and talk about their feelings. The kids keep trying to nudge the Autobots to find the truth. Optimus Prime deals with a crisis in the typical fashion of not thinking his actions through at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!!!! Y’all are so awesome, leaving me comments, kudos, and bookmarks. You’re gonna make me blush!

Elizabeth was awakened by the sick sound of retching coming from the old, decrepit washracks. Her blood froze.

Quietly, she climbed down the rope ladder and padded to the entrance.

Starscream was on his elbows and knees, hunched over the rusty drain as he hacked up thick dribbles of half-processed energon. His servos trembled as he struggledto keep from collapsing on his face.

“... Starscream?” The seeker froze. “Are you alright?” 

Starscream pushed himself up, wiped his mouth with a shaky servo, and shot her a poisonous glare.

“Get.  _ Out!_” He roared, flaring his wings in a threat display. 

Elizabeth locked up, flinching hard at the volume. 

“I’m sorry!” She whimpered, voice cracking as she stumbled back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Starscream’s optics went wide at her reaction.

“Oh, nonono- I didn’t mean-”

He collapsed back over the drain and dry-heaved.

“ _Wait!_ ” He held up a servo as Elizabeth began to back away, absolutely terrified. “You don’t have to- I didn’t mean to-” 

He fell into a brief coughing fit, and his cooling fans kicked into high gear as his systems struggled to right themselves. 

“... You didn’t do anything wrong,” he finally managed to croak.

Elizabeth watched him a moment, anxiously wringing her hands. 

“Can I come in?” She asked. Starscream nodded, slumping against the wall. 

Hesitantly, she crept to his side and climbed into his lap. He peered down at her and raised an optical ridge.

“What are you doing?” He asked hoarsely. Elizabeth curled up against his cockpit, resting her cheek against the glass.

“I dunno,” she mumbled. “Emotional support?” 

Starscream sighed heavily, letting his head fall to rest against the wall with a  _clang_.

“I... Apologize, for yelling at you,” he muttered. “It was undeserved.” 

“It’s okay,” Elizabeth replied. “I snap at people all the time if they catch me crying, or something. I get it.” 

Starscream gently ran the side of his digit-tip across her upper back, humming regretfully.

“You are much smaller than I am, however,” he said, “and you rely on me for survival. You don’t have a choice to be here, nor any power in this situation. I _owe_ you .”

Elizabeth looked up at him, face still squished against his cockpit. 

“I  _ wouldn’t _ leave, though- even if I had the option,” she said quietly. “I like you guys. You’re like my dads.” 

Starscream huffed in amusement.

“I’m not your father, Elizabeth.” He gave her a soft poke between the shoulder blades with his knuckle. “I’m your  _commanding officer_.” The girl snorted.

“Decepticons must be pretty cuddly, then,” she replied drily. 

Starscream scoffed, but didn’t say anything further. Elizabeth turned to face him fully.

“If you don’t mind me asking... What happened? Are you sick?” She could feel the seeker tense underneath her.

“Just... A bad flux,” he said, frowning. “A  _nightmare_ , I’ve heard it called.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked. Starscream shuddered, unintentionally jostling her.

“No,” he murmured. “I just want it all to _disappear_.” 

His servo clenched where it lay on the floor, peeling up ribbons where his digits scratched the metal. Elizabeth grimaced at the noise.

“Primus- when he went away, everything was  _perfect_. There was no fighting, we had resources, everyone respected my command...” Starscream sagged. “I wish he hadn’t come back. That he’d gotten lost in space, or something. He just  _ruins _ _everything_.”

The pair was silent for a moment.

“Is this about Megatron?” Elizabeth asked. Starscream nodded. “I’m sorry. He sounds like a jackass.” 

The seeker giggled, the sound bubbling up from his vocalizer and escaping with a tinge of hysteria. 

“That’s one way to put it,” he said. 

...

The kids observed as Optimus worked at the console, frowning more than usual.

Miko elbowed Jack. 

“Hey, maybe you could try to get him to look at Screamer’s blog,” she whispered. 

“ _Me?!_ ” Jack hissed. “Remember how well that went  _ last  _ time?”

Raf pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“I could give it a try,” he suggested. Miko’s eyebrows shot up.

“If you rat us out,” she warned, narrowing her eyes, “I’m telling Optimus it was  _ your  _ idea!” Jack glared at her.

“ _ Miko! _ ” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Raf replied. He flashed then both a thumbs-up and approached the railing.

Jack pursed his lips.

“He’s totally gonna panic, isn’t he?” He muttered.

“Oh, _definitely_ ,” Miko agreed. 

“Hey, Optimus?” Raf greeted hesitantly. The Prime smiled down at him.

“Hello, Rafael.”

“Are you okay?” Raf fidgeted. “You just seem... Kind of stressed out.” 

Optimus vented a long sigh. 

“I apologize if my manner has distressed you,” he said. “I simply find myself worried for the human Starscream has taken captive. I do not like that I cannot stop him from hurting her.” 

Raf tilted his head.

“Maybe you should check his blog to see what he’s thinking,” he suggested. “He might spill something important.” 

“Ratchet has taken the task of monitoring his blog,” Optimus replied. “He does not like for his jobs to be ‘stolen.’”

“Not anymore!” Miko piped up. “Yesterday he totally freaked after, like, one post!” Optimus frowned.

“I see.” His gaze grew sorrowful. “He has become rather...  _High strung_ , as you would say.” 

“Yeah!” Miko said. “So, go check that blog!” 

Optimus wordlessly brought it up on the monitor, scrolling down to the first post.

‘Do any of you ever think about how all life on this planet came from what was essentially pond scum?’ It read. ‘I feel like that explains a lot.’

“ _ Wow _ ,” Jack said. “Okay, then.”

‘ _Excuse _ you!’ Commented weedbaby69. ‘Pond scum is valid and you suck. Besides, you’re thinking of _plants_. The cells that turned into animals stuck together in blobs and started running around eating other creatures.’

‘This planet was designed by a sadist,’ Starscream had replied. ‘What the frag???’

Optimus stared at the screen for a long moment.

“What does this mean?” He asked hesitantly, as if he fully understood but was hoping he was incorrect. “Surely, you don’t eat other  _ living creatures?_”

“Uh... Yeah?” Jack said. “You didn’t know that?” 

“Plants are...  _ Alive?_” Optimus murmured, stepping back from the console in horror. “I thought they were like _crystals_.”

The kids shared a look.

“Don’t worry about mushrooms or plants, they don’t think or anything!” Miko said, waving his concerns off. “Most of the animals we eat aren’t really smart, either!” 

“...  _Animals?_ ” Optimus asked, optics going wide. “ _Sentient _ animals?” Raf frowned at him.

“Well, none of them are  _sapient!_ ” 

“Nuh-Uh!” Miko protested. “What about octopi?”

“Oh,  _ yeah_,” the boy murmured. “Anyway, we don’t really have a choice. We’re  _consumers_ ,  not producers- we can’t make our own energy.”

Optimus looked like he was going to be sick. Jack looked between the younger teens and the Prime frantically.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa- it’s _fine!_ ” He said. “It’s just the circle of life! We eat things to stay alive, and then when we die other things eat  _ us _ to stay alive, and then something else eats those things, too! It’s just how it works.” 

Optimus was making the expression of a kid who had been told that Santa wasn’t real.

“... Excuse me,” he said. “I am needed elsewhere.”

He transformed and sped out of the base faster than any of them had ever seen a semi drive. 

“Oh, man,” Jack muttered.

...

Fowler was bone-tired. He’d worked for ten hours straight, managing PR and convincing his superiors that the Autobots weren’t going to behave like Starscream (and in fact were actively fighting against him). If he never heard Geberal Bryce’s voice again, it would be too soon.

He sighed as he sank into a bubble bath, relaxing his tensed muscles. The radio was set to smooth jazz, which in combination with the warm water lulled him into a state of drowsy incoherence.

Surely, it wouldn’t hurt if he closed his eyes for a few minutes-

_ Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! _

Fowler startled, accidentally knocking a bottle of soap off the edge of the tub with his elbow. It clattered to the floor, skidding across the tile.

He stood up with a growl, wrapping towel around his waist and stomping to the counter where his phone lay.

“ _ Yes? _ ” He asked through gritted teeth.

‘ _Agent_ _ Fowler!’_ Bryce shouted, causing him to pull the phone away from his face with a flinch. ‘ _Explain to me why one of your robot friends just crippled Texas’s cattle industry!_ ’

Fowler was too goddamn tired for this bullshit.

“What?” He asked flatly. 

’ _Turn on the news!’ _

A minute later, Fowler stood in front of the TV, gripping his bath towel like he was trying to squeeze the life out of it. 

‘... Reports have been coming in from all over Texas today about a giant blue robot destroying the fences at feed lots and releasing all the cows. 

It’s struck almost all the major feed lots in the state, and has somehow evaded the authorities for seven hours. The culprit remained unknown until about an hour ago, when it was caught on camera.’

The video feed switched to silent footage of Optimus Prime ripping up the fences of a cow-pen and ushering the animals out before driving off.

‘This is the third giant robot incident in a month,’ the newscaster said, ‘and everyone wants to know _what’s going on._ ’

Bryce was still yelling.

‘ _ \- And if you don’t get this problem fixed ASAP, Washington is gonna start recognizing your buddies as hostile entities- _ ’

The news droned on. Bryce continued to shout.

Agent Fowler was going to kick Optimus Prime’s shiny metal ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a really tactile person, so the characters I write always end up communicating emotion by being touchy-feely.
> 
> I’m also a huge nerd for biology, which is why it keeps worming its way into my cybertronian-human relations. That being said, don’t quote me on any of what I wrote. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!!! If you enjoyed, don’t forget to show a little love in the true spirit of Valentine’s Day! (Or just for fun, if you don’t celebrate it). 
> 
> You guys are the best! :)


	12. Kin Drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream makes questionable decisions. The clone has a crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your continued support!!! Your comments motivate me to write more! :)
> 
> Happy Valentine’s Day (for real, this time).

Elizabeth had been teaching the Starscreams how to play Uno when the console flashed, indicating that  Harbinger had picked something up. 

The clone, who was sitting closest to it, stood up to investigate. Starscream joined him.

“What’s the deal?” Elizabeth asked, perched on what she had claimed as Her Table as she paused in her struggle to shuffle the massive pieces of cardboard she’d written numbers on using different colored markers. 

The game had yet to begin, and it was already a disaster. 

“Strange... It seems the  Nemesis is dispatching teams to various locations across the planet,” Starscream said.

“Oo, I wonder if there’s going to be a  _ fight?_” The clone crowed, optics brightening in petty glee. Starscream elbowed him.

“Hush, you. Whatever it is, it must be  _important_ -”

“-Thereby giving us an advantage and a potential bargaining chip,” finished the clone enthusiastically. “Oh,  yes \- let’s go create a _fiasco!_ ”

Starscream raised an optical ridge.

“ _I _ will go and investigate,  _ you  _ will stay here and watch Elizabeth until you learn to control what comes out of your mouth.” 

“I wanna go, too!” Elizabeth whined. “I don’t need to be ‘watched,’ I’m an  _adult!”_

The Starscreams burst into identical peals of laughter, before quickly composing themselves.

“ _ No, _ ” they said in unison. 

Starscream isolated a set of coordinates near the southernmost group and punched them into the groundbridge.

“You two stay here- bridge me back when I call for it,” he ordered. The clone rolled his optics.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. Elizabeth watched them both with a frown.

“You’re just going out there all alone?” She asked. “What if something happens?” Starscream bristled.

“I’m several times older than your  _entire species_ \-  I can  handle myself, thank you very much!” He snapped. 

Elizabeth seemed unconvinced.

“Alright, just... Be careful? Please?” Starscream waved her off.

“I’ll be  _fine_ ,” he said, then turned to his clone. “Just make certain that you  bridge me back.”

With that, he pulled the lever and flew through the groundbridge. When the portal closed, all was silent.

“How  _rude_ ,” the clone huffed. “I can keep my mouth shut! For example, I never told  _ anyone _ that we’re afraid of enclosed spaces, because I held back from talking about it, because I have  _ self control!_” 

“You’re claustrophobic?” Elizabeth asked. The clone’s expression soured.

“Shut up!” 

...

Starscream was starting to regret his decision to come alone. 

Not two minutes after he’d bridged into the Antarctic, he’d been grounded by a surprise shot to the wing. 

Now, he was trudging after some  _ upstart _ who thought he was an adequate replacement for the position Starscream had held for  millions  of years, surrounded by  _ his  _ Eradicons, and completely unable to comm for help thanks to the undignified pair of cuffs they’d slapped on him. 

Ugh. Just- the  _ nerve  _ of these idiots! He was their  _ superior!  _ Who did they think they were, disrespecting the most powerful living Vosian noble like a bunch of-

_ Choom! Choom! _

Oh, scrap- there was the Prime. He didn’t look happy to see any of them.

Starscream dove out of the way just in time to avoid being buried in a minor avalanche. He struggled to get to his pedes, pulling one leg out from under the large pile of snow with a curse. 

Suddenly, a large, firm servo grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and he was yanked up to optic-level with Optimus Prime.   


He tittered nervously, feeling quite like one of those meowing dogs Elizabeth seemed so fascinated with.

“Why,  _ hello _ there!” He greeted, plastering a big grin on his face. “Long time, no see! How have you been?”   


Prime tightened his grip on Starscream’s neck.

“ _ Where is the human? _ ” He growled dangerously, field assaulting the seeker with fury and murderous intent. 

“Nowhere you can find if I’m dead!” Starscream blurted.   


Optimus held him aloft for a moment, glaring at him.

“We will speak when we get back to the base. First, I have a matter I must attend to.” He dropped Starscream and nudged him with his blaster. “ _Move_. ” 

Starscream was really,  _ really _ regretting his decision to go alone.

...

The clone picked at his claws, leaning sideways against the wall to avoid squishing his wings. Out of the corner of his optic, he could see Elizabeth doodling something on a piece of cardboard she’d deemed too small to be a part of the makeshift Uno deck.

“You need a _name_ ,” she said, glancing up at him. “And maybe some sort of defining feature so I can tell you two apart.” 

The clone paused. 

While it was certainly a logical conclusion to come to, he didn’t...  _ Want  _ to divorce his identity from Starscream’s. 

He had all the same memories, shared all the same pain. His spark was a perfect replica of his creator’s- he’d checked. Several times. 

He  _ hated _ that he was different somehow. That he wasn’t the ‘real thing.’

That was part of the reason he’d originally intended to kill him. He was  _Starscream_ , and Starscream didn’t settle for being second-best.

Well. Without significant brute force, anyway. 

The longer he spent time around his creator and Elizabeth, the more it became apparent to him that he  was  lacking. Less clever, less wise, less... _Something_.

Some quintessential thing that made him  _ not  _ _Starscream_. 

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m Starscream, too. He and I are  both  Starscream.” 

Elizabeth frowned at that. 

The clone didn’t like to upset her. He knew he was more honest than his creator- at least, with himself. They both cared about her very much. He knew right away that if he’d killed his creator, Elizabeth would have hated him. 

Starscream  _ hated  _ to be hated. 

“Well,  _yeah_ ,” the girl said hesitantly, “but I can’t tell you guys apart.”

“You don’t  _need_ to,” the clone snapped. “We are as one.” 

Of course, he knew why she would want to know who was who. She had a favorite. 

He had heard them talking the night before, in what used to be the washracks. His creator had been recovering from a bad flux. 

The clone never had bad fluxes. Memories of them, inherited from his creator, but not the  real thing. His own processor hadn’t developed such a glitch, new as it was.

He never thought that he’d want them back. 

“Sorry if I upset you,” Elizabeth said softly.

“It’s fine,” the clone replied, fighting to keep his voice from wobbling.

Another thing he lacked- the ability to suppress unpleasant emotions. His creator had millions of years of practice, but the clone’s processor was brand-new and hadn’t had time to adjust to that kind of behavior. 

_ Starscream  _ didn’t cry over such minor inconveniences. Starscream didn’t even have to suppress it!

The clone  _ was _ Starscream. He shouldn’t have had a problem with it, either. 

Now that he was thinking about it, half the things that had happened to his creator over the past few years  _ alone  _ would have sent him into hysterics. 

He could feel himself beginning to tremble.

All these years, Starscream had gotten through life’s slag by taking comfort in the fact that he had himself. That he couldn’t be owned or subjugated in the way that  _mattered_. His mind was still  _ his_, and he was  proud of who he was.

The clone couldn’t even have that, now, could he?

None of those experiences had really  happened  to him- he couldn’t claim any of his creator’s successes or failures. He couldn’t even say that he may as well have been responsible for them, because he was an  _ imperfect copy_. 

He had all the same memories, shared all the same pain, but couldn’t claim the one thing that made them all worth having: the  _ identity_. 

He couldn’t fill an already occupied position, after all. He would never be the  _ real  _ Starscream to anybody- not even himself.

Because he wasn’t, was he?

His spiral of melancholy was interrupted by his comm. 

‘ _I fragged up, I fragged up, I fragged u- _ SLAG!’ 

Oh, dear. It seemed Starscream needed all the help he could get.

“Elizabeth?” He asked. The girl looked up from her doodling.

“Yeah?” 

The clone grabbed the groundbridge remote and held out a servo for her to step onto.

“The idiot needs backup. Let’s go.” 

The girl grinned, grabbing one of the unused coats she’d piled in the corner andclimbing into the clone’s grasp. 

“Let’s go apeshit!” She cheered. 

The clone wasted no time in opening the bridge and zooming through, ready to join whatever idiocy his creator had cooked up  _ this  _ time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a Terrible person for making ‘Kin Drama’ the chapter title, I know.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!! Don’t forget to comments or leave kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	13. Flying Fainting Goat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clone makes bad decisions. Optimus is Pisséd. Dreadwing has no idea what the fuck is happening with these weirdos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!!! Thanks so much for all your support, I’m so lucky to have y’all!!! I couldn’t ask for better readers.
> 
> Warning: violence, panic, and lots of screaming.

About the time Optimus and Starscream had arrived at the military base, (during some sort of comm argument between the Prime and one of his humans), the pair was interrupted by the the roar of three very angry Decepticon jets. 

The Prime warmed his blasters. Starscream held up his cuffed wrists.

“If you free me, I could be useful,” he suggested. Optimus didn’t even look at him.

“ _No_.” 

Starscream grit his denta, moving behind the Prime as Dreadwing and the remaining Eradicons drew closer. He surreptitiously activated his comms, shrinking back in his growing anxiety.

‘ _I fragged up, I fragged up, I fragged u- _ SLAG!’

Dreadwing was shooting at them before he was even in range, throwing up chunks of snow and ice in the wake of the plasma blasts. Starscream dove to the side to avoid being hit, not looking to back to see what the Prime was doing. 

He ended up with a face-full of snow.

Suddenly, two sets of claws were hauling him up out of the drift. 

“Ow!” Starscream yelped as his damaged wing was jostled. The Eradicons manhandling him didn’t seem to care. “Get  off of me!” 

There was a flash of green above them, transformation noises, and suddenly the servos gripping Starscream’s arms went slack. 

The two Eradicons dropped dead next to him, each bearing a smoking hole through the spark chamber.

Starscream whipped around to find own his own face grinning back at him like a smug little slagheap. 

“Apparently, you  _ couldn’t  _ handle it,” the clone purred. Starscream glared at him.

“Shut up and get me out of these things!” He snapped, offering up his bound wrists. 

Dreadwing paused in his fight with Optimus, taking in the scene with wide optics.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He bellowed. The Prime turned around, then stiffened. 

“Starscream,” he shouted, raising his blasters, “stand down!” 

The clone grinned, then dropped Elizabeth out of his cockpit and handed her off to Starscream, who held her awkwardly with his cuffed servos. Optimus’s fury seemed to increase tenfold as he caught sight of the human.

“ _ Make me! _ ” The clone spat, jutting his chin defiantly at the two large, terrifying, absolutely torqued to the Pit mechs. 

Starscream dropped the shivering Elizabeth into his own cockpit, then rounded on his clone.

“Are you  _ insane?!_” He hissed, eyeing Dreadwing’s massive sword and Optimus’s gigantic blasters. “You’re going to get  _ killed!_”

“Not necessarily,” the clone murmured back, holding his own blasters steady. “Unlike  _ you _ , my first instinct in a fight isn’t to  _cower_.”

The statement hit Starscream like a ton of bricks. Before he had time to process the implications of it, the clone was high in the air, weaving between plasma blasts and shooting at whichever of his enemies was within range.

Starscream watched for a few seconds, his expression a combination of insult and anxiety, before glancing towards the human military complex. 

Priority number one was getting Elizabeth out of the line of fire.

...

The clone was exhilarated. It had been a long time since he could remember actually  enjoying a fight- especially a challenging one such as this. 

He spiraled and ducked and shot, the acrobatics that had been hammered into him since he could first transform coming back to him so easily now that they weren’t impeded by a hard-wired instinct to cringe and beg for forgiveness. 

His cackle was lost the wind as he looped around behind Dreadwing, shots scoring streaks into the larger seeker’s paint as they just  barely  missed him. He’d flown  _ obstacle courses  _ more rigorous than this! 

What was Starscream so  afraid  of? Didn’t he know that he was capable? Didn’t he understand that his enemies could only hurt him if they  won?

What Megatron had done to his creator was an _unforgivable travesty_. It was one thing to be disarmed of one’s physical weapons, but another  entirely  to have a shattered _will_. 

  
  


The clone was going to help him repair it, and together they’d kill the brute that Prime had long been too pathetic to get rid of by himself. Megatron had been permitted _far_ too much lenience- it was time to put him to an end.

Primus, the Prime wasn’t even coming  _ close  _ to hitting him-

Wait. 

The clone almost didn’t think to dodge a blast from Dreadwing, and earned a long scorch mark where it had grazed his underside as a result. He was far too distracted by the fact that  _ the Prime had left. _

...

Starscream smashed frantically at the ice encasing whatever it was that had brought them all there in the first place, listening to the battle outside to be certain that he wouldn’t be caught unawares. 

Elizabeth was huddled in the corner, chattering her little denta.

Oh,  when this fiasco was over, he was going to  _ gut  _ his clone for bringing her to one of the most hostile environments on the planet! 

First, however, he needed to acquire whatever weapon was hidden in the ice so that he could fend off Dreadwing and the Prime long enough to escape.

“How are you doing?” He asked, glacing at Elizabeth out of the corner of his optic. 

_ Smash! Crack! _

Almost there...

“I sh-should’ve brought a heavier coat,” the girl replied, tucking her legs underneath the puffy purple monstrosity that was keeping her from freezing to death. “Please hurry.”

_ Smash! _

“I’m trying,” Starscream said. “He shouldn’t have taken you with him, the  _ idiot_.”

_ Smash! _

“ Starscream! ” The Prime shouted. Just as the seeker turned around, twin bolts of blue plasma blasted massive chunk out of the ice.

The relic was shaken loose and thrown across the hangar, bouncing off the wall closest to Elizabeth. 

Before Starscream could make a dive for it, the Prime had flipped him around and pinned him to the ice by his neck, pressing the warm barrel of his blaster against Starscream’s chest- right over his spark chamber. 

Elizabeth screamed.

“ _Starscream_ ,” the Prime growled, ignoring the seeker’s feeble attempts to loosen his grip. “You will never harm  anyone,  ever again.” 

Starscream knew that tone. He _knew_ that look. 

He’d seen it many times over the course of the war, when the Prime psyching himself up to  kill someone- namely, Megatron. 

The servo at his neck was smaller, blunter than what he was used to- but still strong, and still hurting him, and still _terrifying_ enough to make him freeze on the spot. 

“ _Wait_ ,” he whimpered, pawing weakly at the Prime’s wrist with his own bound servos. “Wait, I can  _explain_ -”

Optimus pressed the hot muzzle of his blaster in further, and Starscream could feel it beginning to melt and warp his Decepticon insignia.

“I cannot allow you to continue to terrorize innocents,” The Prime continued. “You are far too _dangerous_ to be left alive.” 

Elizabeth was shouting something, but the two of them were too caught up in the moment to hear it. 

Starscream was going to die. He could see it in the Prime’s optics, he was going to _die_. He didn’t _want_ to die!

“ _ Please _ ,” the seeker sobbed, shaking too badly to thrash effectively. His vents had shut off, and he could feel is internals beginning to overheat. “Please, please, please, no- _please_ , don’t do this, don’t-”

Optimus’s optical ridges were furrowed harshly, betraying his inner conflict. His grip on Starscream’s neck slackened somewhat, and his blaster receded a few inches. 

He paused, as if thinking it over, then pressed his blaster back into Starscream’s chest with a new determination.

“You  _ chose _ this path,” he muttered darkly, resolve strengthening. “... And you will  _ never _ change.” 

The heat over Starscream’s spark chamber returned, and his begging and pleading crescendoed into a panicked frenzy as he struggled fruitlessly in the Prime’s grip. 

“ _Please_ \- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’msorry _I’msorry_ -”

  
  


The Prime’s optics narrowed harshly, and his grip tightened on Starscream’s neck.   
  


He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to-

A blue and silver blur crashed into the Prime’s side, sending them both tumbling into a heap as Starscream was thrown to ground by the force of it. 

“ _Stop it!_ ” Elizabeth shrieked, pinning the Prime to the ground under the weight of the Apex Armor. “Stop, stop, stop, stop,  _ stop!_” 

Starscream curled into a fetal position on the floor, locking his joints into place and keeping his wings flat against his back. His vents were still not functioning, and he just barely registered the heat simmering up off of his plating. 

It was getting more difficult to receive sensory input, and his visual and auditory feeds began to glitch as his systems shut down all non-essential activity to avoid overheating. 

He couldn’t- he couldn’t-

_ Emergency override. Stasis lock: engaged.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, the chapter title reveals that I am a Horrible person. 
> 
> I HC that vents locking down is the robot equivalent to hyperventilating. Starscream’s panic response in Really Bad And Awful Situations of Promised Imminent Demise is locking up like a deer in the headlights (it’s that trauma babey), so this is kind of an extension of that.
> 
> If you enjoyed, don’t forget to comment or leave kudos!!!! Thanks so much for reading!! :)


	14. We Need To Talk About The Cows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth fights the Robot Pope. The clone is awkward. Optimus is stubborn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!!! Thanks so much for all your amazing comments, you’re the best!

“... And you will  _ never  _ change,” Optimus growled, tightening his grip on Starscream’s neck.

The seeker was sobbing and pleading incoherently, struggles growing weaker as he overheated in his panic.

Optimus _hated_ this. He didn’t want to kill someone so terrified, so _distraught_ \- but he needed to keep in mind who he was contending with.

He thought of Ratchet’s guilt, the screams of the humans Starscream had terrorized, the look on the face of the teenager (not a boy, nor named Jonathan, according to Ratchet) he’d kidnapped, the state Agent Fowler had been in after his interrogation, Miko’s trauma from the collapsed mine, Bumblebee’s t-cog, Arcee’s grief,  _Cliffjumper_ -

No. Starscream needed to  _ die_. 

He prepared to shoot-

Something large and solid crashed into his side, tackling him to the ground and pinning him there.

“ _Stop it!_ ” Someone shrieked. “Stop, stop, stop, stop,  _ stop!_”

Optimus’s visual feed came back into focus, and he found himself face to face with a crying human...

... Encased in the  _Apex Armor_. 

Oh.

“You  _ can’t _ kill him!” The teenager continued, visibly distraught. “I won’t  _ fucking  _ let you!” 

Optimus’s glare softened. Something wasn’t right here. 

“Why not?” He asked. The girl seemed to calm somewhat.

“... He’s important to me,” she said quietly. “This- this isn’t what you think it is.” 

Optimus transformed away his blasters. 

“I see,” he replied, moving to sit up. “Please get off of me.”

She reluctantly obliged. They both stood, sizing each other up. 

Before either of them could say anything, the clone arrived, heralded by the roar of his turbines.

“ _ Prime-! _ ” He surveyed the scene with increasing incredulity. “Wait, what the frag? Is that the-”

Dreadwing barreled into him, leaving a deep trench in their wake.

“Do not think you can escape justice,  _ traitor!_” He shouted, drawing his sword.

The human was on him in an instant.

“Get the fuck  _ off _ of him, you big blue bitch!” She screeched, tackling him into a snow drift. Dreadwing recovered from his shock remarkably quickly.

“That relic is not yours to take,  _ child!_” He replied, pushing her off long enough to regain his bearings. “Surrender it to me, and I may spare your life.” 

“Fuck you!” The girl yelled, giving him a clumsy ‘middle finger’ with the inflexible servos of the suit. “Squatters’ rights, jackass!” 

Optimus’s optical ridges raised slightly. He had never met such a vulgar human.

“ _Dreadwing!_ ” He called, transforming his servos into blasters. “Stand down! We do not need to fight!” 

“Oh, you say that to  _him_ ,” the clone muttered resentfully, stumbling to his pedes. 

Dreadwing looked around, glowering at the opponents outnumbering him. He put his sword back.

“Very well,” he said, “but do not presume that this is over- One day, you will  _ all _ pay for your transgressions!”

He transformed and flew off, leaving Optimus to his awkward situation. 

The girl snorted.

“What a  _ windbag_,” she muttered disdainfully. 

The clone burst into a peal of surprised laughter before regaining his composure. The girl approached him.

“Are you alright?” She asked, looking him up and down. 

The clone puffed up proudly, flaring his wings- rather like a showy bird, in Optimus’s private opinion.

“Of  _ course  _ I am,” he drawled, putting his servos on his hips. “You’re talking to the most  _ talented _ flier ever sparked!”

“Alright, alright,” she said with a smile. “That was pretty impressive, I’m not gonna lie.” 

The clone preened, then stiffened. 

“Oh,  _ frag!_” 

Without any further explanation, he sprinted back into the hangar.  


Optimus and the girl shared a look, following him at a more sedate pace.

...

The clone fell to his knees beside his creator’s unconscious form, pressing a servo over his vents to see if they were functioning properly.

He slumped in relief when he felt soft, warm gusts of air caress his digits. He knew what this was- it had happened before, a few times. He remembered those episodes all too well. 

The unconscious seeker’s temperature was still running high, but luckily it appeared that the heat damage was minimal. Or, so it seemed to the clone- he wasn’t a medic, after all. 

Either way, what concerned him most the damage to his neck cabling and the warped circle that had been melted into his chest plate.

He looked between the Prime and his creator.

“You tried to kill him,” he said. It wasn’t a question, or an accusation- a mere statement of fact. 

“Yes,” the Prime replied, looking the slightest bit guilty (which, for him, was a profound display of emotion). “It seems my understanding of your situation was... deeply flawed.” 

“Yeah,” said Elizabeth, drawing the word out, “about that- We lied.” 

“We told  _ so  _ many lies,” the clone felt it was important to add. Elizabeth nodded.

“We lied our  _ asses _ off.”

“Big time.” 

Optimus looked between the two completely unapologetic faces with a frown.

“... I see,” he said slowly. “Might I inquire as to  _ why?_” 

Elizabeth and the clone replied at the same time:

“We had to force your hand.”

“For fun.”

The clone gave Elizabeth a strange look, and found himself on the receiving end of a stern glare.

“What?” He asked, looking between her and the very confused Prime. “I mean,  _ you _ seemed to be having fun with it!”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and turned back to Optimus.

“Y’all weren’t gonna do it unless you absolutely  had to,” she said. “He  _ needs  _ that t-cog, you should have seen him- he was completely  _ off the shits!_” 

The clone furrowed his optical ridges at her incredulously.

“Oh, you say  _ I’m  _ the one who can’t shut up!” He complained. 

Optimus frowned.

“What do you mean by ‘off the shits?’” He asked. Elizabeth pursed her lips.

“Y’know, all over the place? Hog-wild? Loopy?” 

Optimus looked even more confused. Privately, the clone shared his sentiment, but he refused to show it. 

“... Not in possession of all his mental faculties,” Elizabeth finished sheepishly. Optimus hummed in understanding. “I mean, not that either one of them is much better now. I think that’s their default.”

The clone bristled.

“ _ Hey! _ ” He snapped. Elizabeth side-eyed him.

“Can it, Mr. ‘I’m-going-to-fight-two-big-scary-dudes-with-laser-guns-at-once.’”

“You said it was  _impressive_ -”

“Regardless,” Optimus interrupted (so  _ rudely _ ), “I must ask you to accompany me back to base. There is much to discuss.”

Well,  _ that _ wasn’t horribly ominous at all.

The clone and Elizabeth shared a look. He gave her the minutest shake of the head. If they complied, they’d both likely wind up in prison cells. Course of action determined, they turned back to the Prime.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to decline,” the clone said smoothly, resting a servo on his hip with a cocky little flair. 

Elizabeth gently lifted Starscream’s limp frame off the ground, holding him bridal-style. 

“Yeah, sorry, dude.” She paused. “Wait a minute- aren’t you the  _ cow guy?!_” 

Optimus did not dignify that with a response. The clone was immensely confused.

“Until we meet again,” the Prime said, nodding at them. He turned around and exited the hangar.

“Oh my god, you’re totally the cow guy!” Elizabeth exclaimed, trotting after him. “What the fuck was _that_ about? Wait- where are you going? I need  _ answers!_” 

The Prime was gone in a flash of green. 

“Elizabeth,” the clone called, gesturing to Starscream’s unconscious form, “we need to leave before he freezes.”

The teenager stiffened, and the clone activated the groundbridge.

“Alright,” Elizabeth said. “Let’s get out of here.”

...

When Optimus returned, the base was a mess. 

Bulkhead was unconscious on the med-berth, being frantically tended to by Ratchet. The children were slouched sullenly on the couch, and the rest of the team looked either tired or murderous. 

Oh, dear. 

“What happened?” He asked, approaching the med-bay. At Ratchet’s sharp glare, he stopped a respectful distance away.

“Tox-En,” the medic replied with a scowl. Optimus stiffened. “Luckily, there’s not any of it left- but it took its toll.” 

“Did you get anything?” Arcee asked from the crate she was perched on. 

Optimus frowned.

“No,” he said, “but I have learned of some important developments concerning Starscream.” 

The atmosphere of the base soured further. Ratchet’s jaw clenched as he worked on Bulkhead. 

“Is he dead?” Wheeljack asked perhaps a touch too hopefully, leaning in the corner. 

“No,” Optimus replied, giving the Wrecker a stern look that went completely ignored. “It is a long story.” 

Fowler crossed his arms, leveling Optimus with a stern look of his own.

“We’ve got time,” he said. “But afterwards, you and I are going to have a talk about the  _cows_.”

Optimus stared at him. He really wished people would stop bringing that up, he did _not_ want to address it.

“We shall see,” he replied cryptically. Agent Fowler’s demeanor could only be described as menacing.

“Oh, we  _ will_,” he assured, stance unwavering.

Optimus _liked_ Agent Fowler. He respected that the man refused to cower from the ancient, heavily-armed giants occupying his home planet...

Except for right now. 

They stared each other down.

Optimus regretted nothing, and he was never, ever going to talk about the cows.

“Indeed,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter started serious and slowly devolved into absolute clownery. 
> 
> Don’t worry- it’ll pick back up after this! If I’m in the mood. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading!!! Don’t forget to comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed, thank you so much!!! :)


	15. Airing Dirty Laundry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreadwing tattles. Starscream isn’t doing so well. The kids spill the beans.
> 
> Warning: descriptions and implications of abuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your support!!! Sorry this took awhile- I’ve been a bit busy.

Dreadwing’s mood wasn’t improved by thepresence of the chittering beasts leering at him on the bridge, nor by the ghastly sight of whatever had happened to Knockout.

Regardless, he pressed on- his Liege needed to be made aware of what had happened in the Antarctic.

He approached Megatron, stopping a respectful distance away, and bowed his head deferentially.

Megatron didn’t see any of it, too busy staring out at the clouds- likely strategizing, or reflecting on his place in the universe. Something profound,  _ meaningful_.

“My lord,” the seeker greeted. 

“Ah, Dreadwing,” Megatron said, not turning away from his view of the horizon. “I trust you have brought me a relic?”

A hot stab of shame curled in Dreadwing’s tanks for his failure, and he looked at the floor.

“... No, my Liege,” he replied.Megatron stiffened, so Dreadwing continued, “I was impeded by the presence of the traitor Starscream, his clone... And the  _Prime_.” 

_ That _ piqued Megatron’s interest.

“The Prime, you say?” He turned to face his Second fully, and Dreadwing clenched his jaw to keep his confidence steady under the weight of the tyrant’s full attention. 

He nodded.

“Yes, my liege,” he said, “I have reason to believe that he and Starscream are working together.”

Megatron’s optical ridges furrowed, and a snarl worked its way across his face. 

“... I see,” he muttered. “Your failure displeases me, Dreadwing- but it seems that I have other matters to attend to. See to it that this does  _not happen again_.”

Dreadwing nodded, ignoring the anxiety souring his internals.

“Yes, my liege.”

Megatron turned back around and resumed his musing at the viewport.

“You are dismissed,” Megatron said with a careless wave of his servo. 

Dreadwing couldn’t leave fast enough, eager to fix his mistake and restore his lord’s faith in his abilities. The next time he was faced with the Prime and his followers, he would not run.

...

“Mnn,” Starscream moaned, mustering up the presence of mind to online his optics to their lowest setting. 

His entire frame  ached down to his smallest struts, and his processor felt as if it were slogging through mud. If he’d had the energy to try, he would hardly have been able to move. 

“Hey,” said a quiet little voice. A moment later, Elizabeth’s fluffy head poked its way into his limited field of vision- though it was difficult to pick through the details. “How’re you feeling?” 

Starscream managed something between a whine and a sigh, feeling at once too hot and too empty. Elizabeth disappeared.

“Is he alright?” She asked, voice fuzzy and difficult to make out. “He’s really warm.” 

“It seems the heat damage was more extensive than I thought. His self-repair systems are straining.” A pause. “We need to flip him on his front.” 

There was the sound of something deploying, and one massive pair of servos gently lifted him by the shoulders while another took his hips. He whimpered- they were  _cold_.

Slowly and with great care, he was rolled onto his front. His wings were flopped to either side, open to what little air was circulating inside the stuffy old shipwreck. He could feel his systems cooling down from their slight fever, and his aches abated somewhat.

Elizabeth giggled.

“He looks droopy,” she said. His clone huffed.

“Yes, yes- he’s tired, give him some space. Go eat your ‘food,’ or something.”

“Alright, whatever.” There was a noise that signaled something folding back up, and little pedesteps pattered out of the room. 

The clone sighed once it was silent, and a cold, spindly servo rested itself on Starscream’s back-thruster. Slowly, it began petting him in soothing up-and-down motions that made his already muddled processor fuzzy. Starscream made some sort of inquisitive hum, the purpose of which he wasn’t entirely certain.

“Shh,” said the clone, field dancing on the edge of Starscream’s own with a vague sense of affection. “Go back to recharge. You need to rest.” 

Starscream wouldn’t admit it to anyone- even  _himself_ \- but he’d missed the feeling of being doted upon. Of being able to relax and entrust someone else with his safety for a little while. Of affection in general.

He liked this- the soft words, the petting of his back. It was  nice.

It didn’t take long to lull him back into unconsciousness.

...

The clone couldn’t stop a soft smile from spreading across his face as Starscream’s weak purring tapered off. 

Someone (he couldn’t remember who- it had happened a  _ long _ time ago) had once called him incorrigibly self-absorbed. He wondered if it still applied, now that they were now two different entities. 

After all, from the clone’s perspective he had  been  the mech in front of him for as long as he could remember- up until a couple weeks prior. 

It was strange, to look down at himself and see someone so contradictory to the self-image he’d held for so long. Someone scared, and lonely... Someone whose struggles he understood intimately. 

He had never thought of himself like that before, had never been so generous with his understanding for anybody. 

Starscream could always be counted on to love himself, and the clone  _ was _ Starscream, to a certain degree.

His creator murmured in his sleep, using what little energy he had to spare from his overtaxed self-repair systems to press up into the caress. It was... Endearing.

The clone realized something, then- watching the unconscious seeker sigh softly in recharge:

Starscream did _not_ love himself. 

He didn’t even  _ like  _ himself, come to think of it.

When had he ever forgiven himself for his failures? 

When had he ever judged himself on his _own_ terms? 

When was the last time he’d had actual, real confidence in himself not born of spite? 

Not that he’d ever been candid about it with anyone, of course- but even in the moments he’d been shouting his own praises to the high heavens, there had been an  _ ache _ there to  _prove_ it.

If someone had ever told him to ‘prove’ that his trine had been worth love, affection, or praise, he would have gutted them on the spot.

The same with Skyfire.

Pit, if someone even tried to tell him  _ Elizabeth’s _ presence wouldn’t be tolerated if she didn’t bring something significant to the table (a rather reasonable stance to take in a military, he presumed), he’d punch a hole in them faster than they could say ‘show me’...

... But, Starscream did not extend that same courtesy to himself. He hadn’t in a very long time. 

When had  _ that _ happened? 

_ How  _ had that happened?

He stared down at his double, feeling an odd swell of sympathy. He wanted him to succeed, to  feel _better_.

... Who did he have to  _ kill  _ to make things right again?

...

The expressions in the Autobot base ranged from ‘dumbfounded’ to ‘very disappointed in you, Optimus, you know better than to consume substances that influence your neural net activity.’

“Bullshit,” Fowler said. The kids behind him stiffened.

“He’s allowed to  _ cuss?_” Raf whispered to his companions. Jack looked at him tiredly. 

Miko was uncharacteristically silent, gripping the handrail as she stared at her injured guardian. 

“What do you mean, Agent Fowler?” Optimus asked, ignoring the way the solemnity of the base weighed on his spark.

The human glared at him sternly.

“How do we know he’s not lying, or playing the long game? That girl could still be in danger! He could be _lying_ to her!” 

The base fell silent.

“No, he’s not,” Jack said. Raf and Miko froze, watching him with eyes.   
  


Optimus frowned. Something was not right with the children.

...

Jack’s stomach was doing back-flips.

“What do  _ you _ know about all this?” Fowler asked, giving him a Look. The boy took a deep breath.

“Okay, I  _ know _ you told us not to go on Starscream’s blog-”

“ _ What?! _ ” Ratchet exclaimed. Arcee stood up from her crate, stiff and furious.

“ _Jack!_ ” Miko hissed, whirling around. “What are you  _ doing?!_” 

Good question.

“He almost  _died_ ,” Jack stressed. “I mean, he’s a total _asshole_ , don’t get me wrong, but...” 

Miko stared at him a moment, before stomping off to the couch in a huff. Jack turned back to the crowd of gigantic, angry aliens.

“We looked at his blog a lot, because we thought it was funny at first,” he continued, “but we saw a lot of... Really messed up stuff.”

“Well, of _course_ you did!” Arcee snapped. “This is  _Starscream_ ,  what were you  _ thinking?! _ What did you even see?”

Jack swallowed.

“Not plans or anything- just his rants. Like, he doesn’t name any names, but you can tell  _ exactly  _ what he’s talking about and it’s kind of sickening.” 

Ratchet grimaced.

“Of _course_ he’d brag about the things he’s done...” He muttered. “This is one of the reasons why we told you to stay away from it, Jackson- war is _brutal_.”

Jack shook his head.

“It wasn’t  bragging, though,” he said. “It was  _complaining_. The Decepticons are messed up- like,  really  messed up on a psychological level. I just- I don’t know, I feel like I need to show you so you can understand what I’m talking about.” 

“We  _ know _ they’re fragged up, kid- we’ve been fightin’ ‘em for longer than humans have been  around ,” Wheeljack said. Jack sighed in frustration.

“I know what you mean, but that’s not what I’m talking about!” He said. “Just- just pull it up and let me show you? Please?” 

He looked imploringly to Optimus who, with a sigh, nodded his assent. Ratchet offered him a servo, and deposited him on the console. 

“This is ridiculous,” the medic muttered. 

“Go to the search bar and find the ‘delete later’ tag,” Jack said. Ratchet shot him an inquisitive look. “He always tags them with that, but he never actually deletes the posts. Anyway, those are usually the worst.” 

‘I used to think I was sore all the time because I was getting old, but now I think that it was either healing injuries or the fact that I was constantly tensed. I didn’t even realize how much my body ached until it stopped.’

The base fell into an unimpressed silence.

“So,” Ratchet deadpanned, “he’s enjoying a break from responsibilities. What’s so ‘messed up’ about that?”

“Yeah, it  seems  like that on the surface,” Jack said, “but you’ve gotta think about it- isn’t he rogue right now? As far as he knows, he’s going to get shot on sight of anyone finds him. Optimus, didn’t his friend say he was starving? He should be  _ stressed out._” 

The Autobots didn’t look convinced.

“And- and apparently he was recovering from injuries so often he thought it was  _ chronic pain! _ You guys fight in  _ way _ more battles than he does, and that doesn’t happen to you.” 

No dice.

This was getting increasingly difficult to articulate without making some sort of actual claim (and he didn’t want to go there), so Jack stepped on a button to scroll down a bit.

It was some sort of post about arch-nemesis fighting tropes, and Jack scrolled all the way to the bottom of it to find Starscream’s comment.

‘You’re all idiots. You’ve obviously never been in a situation like that before, have you? 

There’s nothing ‘fun’ about being pinned against wall by your throat while your enemy screams in your face and won’t let go. It’s not ‘sexy’ for your neck to be so damaged that you can’t talk for  _ days  _ afterward. It’s painful and humiliating and annoying.

You don’t _want_ someone that threatening getting in your personal space, or grabbing at you, or throwing you around. You don’t want to be that weak in front of  _anybody_.’ 

There was beat of silence.

“It’s a  _war_ ,  Jack,” Arcee said impatiently. “People throw you around.”

“You guys are all  _stupid!_ ” Miko snapped, stomping over to the railing. “Let me get up there, I’ll show you what he means!” 

Ratchet rolled his optics, muttering something about ‘not being a taxi service,’ but complied.

“Go back and find the ‘anonymous’ tag,” she said. 

After scrolling for about ten seconds, she found it.

‘Anonymous said: Why are you so surprised about losing an organ when you were working with literal organ thieves? Seems like you had it coming.’

‘Oh, get  _ fragged! _ You don’t know anything about me or my situation, and you don’t know why I did  _ anything! _ Do you think I  _ wanted _ to align myself with a bunch of traitorous, filthy organ thieves?! 

Admittedly, it was a colossal error in judgement, but  _ I am starving! _

But, of course you don’t  _ know _ that- you just want to  _ moralize _ like an insufferable, impertinent little idiot who thinks you are the pinnacle of morality and sound judgement. 

Let me spell it out for you, since you seem too dense to comprehend what  _ exactly _ is going on:

Sometimes, you have to work with people you’d rather kill in order to stay alive! 

It was _them_ or a gigantic megalomaniac with anger issues, and I’d rather take my chances with a band of wannabe-scientists with a penchant for impromptu dissection than an _idiot_ with a god complex who’s big enough to crush my body just by  _ squeezing  _ (and when it comes down to organ removal, the thieves  _ still  _ win, because this is not the first time this has happened and  they’ve only done it  _ once _ \- not to mention, they didn’t treat it like it was a _privilege_ that could be  lost).

I don’t care about whether or not I “had it coming,” this is  _ my _ blog and I’m going to complain!!!!

Come back and talk slag when you’re actually in a difficult situation, you miserable, insignificant little cockroach.’

Miko gestured to it with both hands, waving them up and down dramatically.

“ _Duh!_ ” She shouted. “Jack is just too much of a  wuss to tell you that Screamer isn’t going back to the ‘Cons because his life is a  _fucking nightmare!_ ” She turned to Jack. “You are  so  bad at explaining things, I can’t  _ believe _ you just made me defend that guy!”

The teenager held up his hands defensively.

“What, do you think Starscream is the hill  _ I  _ wanna die on? I’m just saying, he’s probably not lying because  _that?_ ” He gestured to the screen. “That is  _messed up_. That isn’t normal. That’s not a ‘war’ thing, that’s a ‘Megatron’ thing.” 

The bots were grimacing at the screen. Agent Fowler was frowning.

“And he’s got no idea that anyone knows about his blog?” Jack and Miko shook their heads, and he sighed. “Fine. That doesn’t excuse the fact that he’s prone to robbing and destroying establishments for his little ‘friend,’ though.  Or  the fact that she seems to be complicit in all this.”

Jack looked out at the bots’ expressions, which betrayed various degrees of disgust.

“Look, I’m not saying he’s a _good guy_ , or anything,” he said, “but I don’t think he’s much of a threat at this point. So, maybe don’t kill him?” 

Optimus looked supremely guilty. Agent Fowler pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Great- glad we got that cleared up.” He turned to the Prime. “Now-  _the cows_.” 

Before he could say anything further, Optimus had shifted into alt-mode and escaped out the tunnel entrance.

Jack blinked. It weird to watch Optimus run (or drive, in this case) away from his responsibilities. Fowler turned to the rest of the Autobots with a grim determination.

“Anyone wanna give me a ride?” He asked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not to say that the kids like Starscream, but if you learned that someone you hate had been deliberately and brutally terrorized and abused by someone they couldn’t defend themselves against for a VERY long time (who is kind of the source of their all YOUR problems, too), you’d probably feel kind of bad for them. Especially if they got out and were trying to move on.
> 
> So, instead of execution, they’re hoping the bots will consider jail or something. 
> 
> Also, the clone has, in typical Starscream fashion, decided that both of their self-esteem issues can only be solved by murder.
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading!!! Don’t forget to comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed!!!!! :)


	16. Sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcee and Jack have a chit-chat. Elizabeth and Clonescream have to make some hard choices. Miko reminds us that the plot of TFP is still happening in the background. 
> 
> Warning: discussion of abuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! Y’all are awesome, thanks so much for all the comments!!!!!!
> 
> Here’s more ~headcanons~!

Arcee was quiet the next day when she picked Jack up from school. 

“Hey,” he greeted. 

She did not respond. 

They drove in silence for a few minutes.

“... What’s wrong?” Jack finally asked. 

“I can’t believe you’d do that,” Arcee said quietly, after a moment. “After everything he’s done, I can’t _believe_ you’d defend him like that.” 

Her voice was bitter, with an edge of betrayal. Jack’s stomach twisted into knots. 

“I’m sorry, I just- I wasn’t  _ defending  _ him, I-” he cut himself off. “I don’t know. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to focus so much energy on him?” 

“That’s a load of scrap, Jack,” Arcee replied curtly. “You feel bad for him.” 

Under his helmet, Jack grimaced. 

“I just don’t know  _why_ ,” Arcee continued. “He’s hurt so many of us- I don’t  _ care _ how bad his life is.” 

“He just- reminds me of someone,” Jack muttered, tightening his grip on her handlebars. “A lot of the things he said really got under my skin. I don’t know.”

Arcee veered off the road, speeding off behind a Mesa. Jack slid off the seat once she parked, taking off his helmet as she transformed.

“We need to talk about this,” she said, staring at him with an intensity that made him squirm. “This isn’t- it’s _not_ okay.”

Jack sat down heavily, leaning on the helmet in his lap and staring at the ground. 

“Look, it’s complicated, okay? I just...” He looked up at Arcee, who sat in front of him with her legs crossed, staring at him expectantly. “He... Kind of reminds me of my mom.”

Arcee’s optics narrowed.

“Wait, _what?_ ” She asked. Jack grimaced.

“Okay, you can’t _ever_ tell her I told you this,” he said, “but my dad was terrible. Like,  _ really _ awful. He did a lot of bad things to her when I was little, and I don’t remember a lot of it, but it still affects her.” 

He looked back at the dirt, tracing circles with his finger.

“You can’t sneak up on her, you can’t yell at her, you can’t get in her face- she freezes up really badly. Like, one time we got in a car accident, and the guy who rear-ended us started screaming at her, and I thought she was going to have a panic attack.” He fidgeted. “And reading about some of the things that happened to him kind of reminded me of that.”

Arcee’s face softened.

“Jack-”

“And I know, _I know_ \- trust me, I  _ hate  _ seeing her in him at all, but still. It bugs me.” Arcee sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not really mad at you, I’m just... Frustrated and upset.”

“I can understand that,” Jack replied. 

“I just don’t know where all this is  _ coming  _ from- it’s like he decided to be  less awful all of a sudden,” She continued. “Why couldn’t he do  that instead of  _ murdering_-”

She cut herself off. They were both silent. 

“Did I tell you about when he saved my life?” Arcee asked quietly. Jack nodded.

“A bit, yeah. You said he shot Airachnid.” Arcee sighed.

“Yeah... He did more than that,” she said. “He cut me down from her webbing and said something about ‘repaying debts.’ It came out of _nowhere.”_ She furrowed her optical ridges. “I don’t understand why he didn’t just  kill me. He doesn’t  _ get  _ to start playing nice, like he didn’t hurt anyone!” 

Jack didn’t know what to with that.

“Uh, well.” He fidgeted. “I’m sorry.” 

Arcee sighed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I don’t know about you,” Jack said, “but I’m tired of thinking about that jackass. Wanna head to base?” 

Arcee smiled, shifting into her alt-mode.

“Sounds like a plan, partner.” 

...

Starscream had curled up on his side in the night, and was whimpering as his dim, unseeing optics darted around the room.

Elizabeth was seated in the clone’s lap, and together they watched the feverish shaking in silence.

“... He needs a doctor,” Elizabeth decided. “Like, right now. Look at him, he’s still all busted up!” 

The clone nodded.

“Undoubtedly. The question now is how we would go about  _acquiring_ one.” 

Elizabeth sighed.

“Yeah, the Autobots are  _ not  _ going to do anything for us after all that shit we pulled.” She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, screwing up her mouth. “You said  _ Knockout _ is small- do you think we could just pop into the  _ Nemesis  _ and kidnap him?” The clone shivered. 

“ _No_. Absolutely not. He’d comm for help, or drill through something important.” He grimaced. “He’d probably also start cracking _jokes_.”

Elizabeth shot him an inquisitive look. 

“Oh, just little things. Like, ‘ _Oo, that looks like it _ hurts! _ Do you want to be in  stasis for the surgery?_’” He mocked in a falsetto, flapping one of his servos to imitate talking. He grabbed his wrist and shook it in a pantomime of strangling. “Shut up, you little goblin! What, do you think I can’t handle getting a bit  _ dismembered?_”

Elizabeth looked between him and his servo with furrowed brows.

“You need help,” she muttered. The clone glared at her.

“We’re not getting Knockout,” he said. Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

“Alright, then. Why don’t we just go kidnap another teenager  for _real_ this time like pair of jackasses!” She threw her hands in the air. “I mean, unless we can _magically_ procure another bargaining chip-”

She paused, looking over at the condensed Apex Armor she’d left on the table, mercifully still there thanks to her threats to do very awful biological things to the clone in his recharge cycle if he took it. The clone followed her gaze.

They looked at each other.

“I hate this,” the clone said.

“Me too,” Elizabeth replied with a grimace.

“We have to do it, don’t we?”

“Ee-yep.”

The seeker flopped back in his chair with a whine, jostling Elizabeth.

“ _Fine_. Go suit up, I’ll contact the stupid Autobots.”

...

Just as Jack and Arcee got back to base, they received a hail from Starscream.

“Are you  _kidding_ me?!” The two-wheeler hissed. Jack patted her ankle sympathetically.

“‘Will trade Apex Armor for medical attention,’” Ratchet read. “‘No lying this time- pinky promise.’” 

“That’s literally the  _ least _ trustworthy thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” Arcee said. 

“Then they shall give it to us _before_ we assist them,” Optimus replied. “Arcee, you will stay and operate the groundbridge. Bumblebee will monitor Bulkhead. Ratchet and I will handle this situation.” 

Arcee had to concede that that was probably a good idea. If allowed to go along, she might get tempted to shoot Starscream in the codpiece during surgery, and something told her that Optimus would _not_ approve.

“Alright,” she said. 

Ratchet and the Prime disappeared, leaving the base in silence.

_ Suspicious _ silence.

“Hey, where’s Miko?” Jack asked.

Scrap.

...

Miko trotted up behind Optimus and Ratchet.

“Hey, guys!” She chirped. Ratchet jumped.

“ _Ack!_ ” He turned around. “What are you  _doing_ here?! ” 

Well, truthfully, Miko wanted to escape the base and occupy her mind so that she wouldn’t have to think about the fact that she’d killed Hardshell the night before andprocess why she didn’t regret it in the slightest, or why she even wanted to.

But they didn’t know about that, so she shrugged.

“I’m bored,” she said.

Ratchet stared at her. Optimus frowned.

“Miko,” the Prime said, “this situation could escalate-”

“I’ll stay out of the way!” She promised, putting on her Pleading Face. “You won’t even know I’m there!” 

“That’s not reassuring in the _slightest_ ,” Ratchet muttered. Optimus stared at her a moment.

“At the first sign of trouble, you will return to the base,” he said. 

Ratchet glared at him, and Miko whooped. 

“Alright! Let’s rock this surgery!” She cheered. “Stab that guy back to life!”

“Please, _never_ become a medical professional,” Ratchet said exhaustedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Oh Jack and his mom never mention a father. Jack seems to take his responsibilities very seriously. They could even be struggling financially. Obviously they’ve been through some shit.  
> Me:  
> Me: It’s free real estate :)))))
> 
> Poor Arcee. If Starscream wanted a redemption so bad, he could have started with NOT murdering her best friend!!! 
> 
> I feel like I’m ‘steven universe-ing’ this fic. Everyone talks about their problems and deals with emotional turmoil and maybe cries. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!!! Don’t forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed!!! :)


	17. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and the clone make a transaction. The clone decides that he’s responsible for the Terrible Trio, now. The girls get to talking. Starscream has a bad flux.
> 
> Warning: abuse (largely emotional).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your continued support, it means the world to me!

Elizabeth held Starscream bridal-style, relishing in the power of the Apex Armor while she still could. He was _not_ going to be happy about this, she knew.

Tough shit.

“Hm?” The seeker hummed inquisitively, onlining his optics as she and the clone trekked through the forest. 

“Shh,” Elizabeth said, shifting his position so that his head was resting on her shoulder. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”

“Mmkay,” he mumbled. The clone rolled his optics.

“Don’t  _ coddle _ him,” he muttered. Elizabeth gave him a flat look.

“He’s  _sick_ ,” she said. “He needs a little TLC.” 

The clone squinted.

“He needs ‘the learning channel?’” He asked. 

Elizabeth shook her head with a snort.

“Nevermind.” 

They came upon a clearing, and the Prime and Ratchet were waiting for them, looking thoroughly unamused. They stopped.

The two parties stared at each other for a moment.

“Hi.” Elizabeth shifted her weight awkwardly. “So, uh. Do I just set him on the ground, or...?” 

“Unless you brought a  _ tarp_,” Ratchet snapped impatiently.

“Right.” She gently laid Starscream on his back. 

The seeker’s face screwed up, and he mewled in discomfort. Elizabeth’s heart broke a little at the sight.

“Hm ,” Ratchet said. “He’s not doing too well.” He held out a servo. “Give us the armor.” 

Elizabeth hesitated a moment.

She probably should have seen this coming. If she made herself vulnerable now, there was nothing stopping these guys from taking the armor and leaving them there. 

They weren’t going help them if she didn’t fork it over, however.

She deactivated it (the mechanism had been difficult to locate, and it had taken her twenty minutes to get out of it last time), and left it on the ground. 

“Uh, here?” She felt too exposed without it.  


Optimus quietly retrieved it, then moved back to the side, out of the way. 

Elizabeth chuckled nervously. She’d forgotten how big these guys were. They could just  _ squish  _ her if they so chose, and they looked  _angry_ -

“I’ll be over there,” she blurted, pointing to the underbrush. 

...

The clone frowned as he watched Elizabeth go, feeling oddly awful about himself at her reaction.

Perhaps it felt too much like something he’d do. He  did _hate_ those all too frequent moments of weakness, and seeing such behavior displayed by his charge brought on a sense of second-hand embarrassment.

He decided that the best thing he could do would be to leave it- acknowledging it would only exacerbate the shame by bringing it to everyone’s attention, after all.

The medic got to work, muttering to himself as his nimble servos flew across his creator’s chassis.

“Damaged neck cabling, dents and scoring on the outer edge of one wing, partially buckled chest plating, heat-damage all over the sensornet, signs of spark-stress...”

The clone felt like a fool for waiting so long to do something about it. 

He  _ hated _ feeling foolish.

He stood there quietly, watching with the Prime as Ratchet began his repairs.

He would never allow himself to shirk his responsibilities to either Starscream or Elizabeth ever again, he decided.

...

Elizabeth found a girl in the bushes, and blanched.

“Uh, kid-” she whispered, but was cut off.

“Oh my god, are you Screamer’s human?” She asked. Elizabeth blinked.

“Wait, _what?_ ” She furrowed her eyebrows and let out a snort. “Also- ‘ _Screamer?_ ’ ” 

The girl nodded.

“Yeah- that’s what we call him,” she said. 

“Hold on, hold up- ‘ _we?_ ’” Elizabeth asked incredulously. “Who  are  you? Why are you even- how  _ old _ are you?!”

“The name’s Miko, and I’m fifteen and a half!” She said proudly. “So, y’know- I’m  _ basically  _ an adult.”

Oh,  _ christ_. Was this how she made Starscream feel? Elizabeth shook her head.

“Oh, kid,  _no_ ,” she said. “Are you with the Autobots? Where are your  parents? ” 

Miko pouted at her.

“I’m not a little kid!” She insisted. “I’ve been on a ton of missions! I  _ killed _ a guy!” 

_ What?!  _ Optimus Prime, the guy who had tried to  _ murder  _ Starscream for having her  _ at all_, put fifteen year olds into situations that led to them having to  _kill_ people?

Giant robot or not, she was having  _ words  _ with that guy.

“Holy shit, are you  _ okay?_” Elizabeth asked. “ Why do the Autobots let you on missions? Are you in danger? What the hell?!”

Miko wrinkled her nose.

“They only let me do  boring  things, like patrolling or something,” she complained. “I have to sneak out a lot.” 

Elizabeth was losing years off her life. Did this child have  _ no _ sense of self-preservation?!

“ _Why?_ ” She hissed. “Why do you do this? You could  _ die!_” 

“I haven’t  _yet!_ ” Miko helpfully pointed out. Elizabeth took a deep breath, and folded her hands.

“Alright, let me break it down for you,” she said. “Starscream has told me that he’s considered kind of small among the Decepticons. He is  _ twenty-two tons  _ of solid metal.”

“Big whoop,” Miko replied flatly. Elizabeth’s patience waned.

“Kid, humans are made out of  _ animal cells. _ Y’know, the structures with membranes so fragile that they liken them to  _ bubbles  _ in biology?” Elizabeth continued. “We are water held together with microscopic sheets of phospholipids. You aren’t dead yet because you are  _ very  _ lucky.”

Miko narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, yeah?” She challenged. “Well,  this  animal cell-bubble took down an  _ insecticon!_” 

Elizabeth blinked.

“I don’t know what that is,” she said. “Are they smaller than the average cybertronian, or...?” Miko scoffed.

“ _No_ ,  they’re bigger than Optimus!” She exclaimed, waving a hand in the direction of their guardians. Her face fell into something more neutral- almost haunted. “He hurt my friends, so I shot that stupid slagger with a missile and sent him back to Megatron in  _pieces_.” 

Well, that was _fucked up._ They were silent for a moment.

“Hey,” Elizabeth said softly, “are you okay?”

Miko didn’t answer, and stomped over to a rock to plop down on it. Elizabeth sat down next to her, watching her worriedly.

“... I thought I would feel better if I made him pay,” the girl finally muttered, picking at the stone beneath her. “But Bulk is still hurt. And none of the bots know except for Wheeljack. I didn’t _fix_ anything.” 

Elizabeth nodded sympathetically.

“Do you regret it?” She asked. Miko shook her head.

“No,” she said. “It just _sucked_. It wasn’t any fun- it felt like taking out the trash, or something.” 

“Oof,” Elizabeth said with a wry smile. “You just dug that guy up and killed him again!”

Miko smiled faintly. 

“Yeah.” She turned to Elizabeth. “Has Screamer made _you_ kill anyone yet?” She asked. 

Elizabeth couldn’t suppress the short burst of giggles that erupted from her mouth at the thought of Starscream _willingly_ placing her into any combat situation.

“I mean,  _ no_,” she replied, “but he’d probably be proud of me or something. When he first grabbed me, he made this big speech about how it was the ‘dawn of a new era,’ and kept going on about how we were going to bathe in the blood of our enemies, or something.” 

“Wait,  _ seriously?_” Miko asked, looking like she couldn’t decide whether to be amused or horrified. Elizabeth nodded.

“ _ Hoh,  _ yeah,” she said. “And then I started panicking because I’d just gotten kidnapped by a giant robot, and he freaked out and robbed a Walmart to get me things so I’d stop.” She shook her head fondly. “It’s kind of a mixed bag with him.” 

The sound of whirring and buzzing came from the clearing, and the pair looked through the trees for a moment. Elizabeth seemed to wilt a bit at the reminder of Starscream’s predicament.

“... Why do you stay with him?” Miko asked, looking almost as if she already knew the answer. Elizabeth dismissed the absurd thought. “Didn’t he _kidnap_ you, or something?” 

“Well, _yeah_ ,” she replied, “but- and this is gonna sound  _weird_ - we were sort of internet friends, before that?” 

Miko didn’t look near as surprised as Elizabeth thought she would.

“ _ Wow _ ,” she said with a forced-looking grin, “that’s totally crazy!” 

Elizabeth didn’t worry too much about it. The kid was  weird.

“Yeah.” The memory of the events before she’d properly met him soured her stomach. “My parents were gonna kick me out. I was scared, so I told him about it, so he punched a hole in the roof and grabbed me.” 

“Huh,” Miko said. “I thought he didn’t like humans.” 

“Pfft,” Elizabeth replied, “he doesn’t like  _ anybody! _ He’s a crabapple!”

“He calls us ‘vermin,’” Miko said flatly. Elizabeth shrugged.

“Last time he said something like that, I threw a can of beans at his head.” Miko snorted at that. “Anyway, he seems to like  _ me _ just fine, for some reason. I wouldn’t leave even if I had somewhere else to go.” 

Miko raised her eyebrows.

“I mean, I guess I get what you’re saying.” They were silent for a moment. “Anyway- did you _really_ tackle Optimus?”

Elizabeth grinned.

...

Megatron stood before him, face impassive and blank as it had always been, when addressing him. Starscream was never spared feelings from his master.

He was on his knees (why was he on his knees?), and he was begging and pleading.

He didn’t understand a single word that was coming out of his own mouth. They all merged together into one long, fixed, and ultimately meaningless unit.

Words were useless, here. 

Megatron’s features remained neutral, but had slowly began to harden somehow- as if he had become resolute in not feeling anything for Starscream at all.

His simpering was beginning to make some sort of sense. There was a feeling he could identify now, behind that pure terror: _desperation_.

Not for his life. Not for his safety.

The words came into focus.

“... _Please_ , master, just once! Just this once is all I ask, just  _ one time _ is all I need...”

What was he begging for? What did he want so _badly?_

“It doesn’t even have to be _significant_ \- maybe something like ‘you do well, occasionally,’ or ‘good job!’” 

Megatron remained unaffected by his plea for approval. His face was cut from stone and his harsh, blazing gaze was somehow icy. Starscream became more desperate.

“ _Please_ ,” he sobbed, “you don’t even have to  mean  it! I’ll- I’ll never be a problem again! I’ll never question you, I’ll never speak out of turn, I’ll never think twice to execute your orders! You can hurt me whenever you want, I don’t care! I won’t scream, or cry-”

Nothing.

“- unless you  _ want _ me to cry, of course! I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you ask, just  _ please  _ just give me _one_ good reason to stay with you.  _ Please _ give me  _ one _ _sign_ that everything I’ve done means anything to you at all!” His voice quieted. “ _Please_.”

Megatron didn’t move, but he also didn’t look away.

“You try to bargain with me,” he finally said, (and oh, how Starscream still flinched at gravelly voice), “with behavior that is already  _ expected _ of a Second in Command?” 

Starscream’s wings fell. Oh, he’d fragged up, he’d fragged up-

“Master,” he tittered nervously, “I-”

“Do not interrupt me,” Megatron growled. Starscream froze. Was it warm? He was getting warm. “As I was saying, you  _ dare  _ to threaten to withhold the very _bare minimum_ I expect from you, as if it is a luxury? As if you have any right to  _ command  _ me?”

Starscream shook his head fervently.

“No,  master, _no_ -”

“Every other soldier in this faction has no trouble doing what is expected of them,  _ Starscream_.” The seeker flinched. He  hated the sound of his name in Megatron’s mouth. “If you are unable to do so without  _special treatment_ , then you are not worth keeping around at all.”

Starscream felt like he was hanging over a smelting pit, with the way the heat was suffocating him. Despite this, cold still crept up his spinal struts to his neck.

“Master, forgive me-” he begged, staring into the brightening barrel of a fusion cannon. It was warm, getting warmer- “I- I spoke out of turn, my lord,  _ please_-”

Megatron’s face was impassive, almost bored. 

“Time and again, you prove yourself more trouble than you are worth, Starscream,” he said. “You are far from impossible to replace.”

Starscream’s pleading began to blend itself up again, a slurry of meaningless simpering and bids for mercy that he did not deserve. 

The fusion cannon was bright, getting brighter, brighter,  _brighter_ -

Somewhere, wherever he was, Starscream sat up abruptly with a strangled gasp and fell on his side, retching into the soft organic soil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!!! Don’t forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed!!! :)


	18. Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream is completely off his shits, to Clonescream’s exhaustion. Megatron jumps to conclusions. Soundwave loves his kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Thanks so much for all your comments, they are the fuel that motivates me to write!

The repairs didn’t take as long as the clone had thought they would. Apparently, most of the damage had been to his internal wiring, but it was nothing that couldn’t be solved by his self-repair systems (and how fortunate for them- Ratchet had neither the time nor resources to set about fixing a problem of that magnitude). 

“Alright,” the medic said tiredly. “I’m bringing him back online.”

As soon as he disconnected, Starscream was upright and heaving all over the ground. The clone shuddered as the half-processed energon narrowly missed hitting his pedes, making a noise of frustration.

“Do you have any _idea_ how  long it took to get him to swallow that?” He muttered, falling into a crouch in front of his creator. “Come on, up you get.”

Starscream dry-heaved one last time, frame trembling from the exertion. 

“Wh-Where the frag  _ are  _ we?” He stuttered. His optics darted around almost feverishly, taking in his lackluster surroundings, then widened. “I’m- I’m not dead!”

He laughed deliriously at that, allowing himself to slump back onto the disgusting, dirty forest floor.

“That’s  _ twice  _ now,” he slurred, holding up two limp digits. “Twice in a row I thought I was gonna die! An’ I  _ didn’t!_” 

The clone was completely mortified at such undignified behavior.

“His self-repair systems are still taking priority in his frame’s energy distribution, so his higher processing skills may be temporarily impaired,” Ratchet helpfully supplied, as if reading his mind. “Basically, he’s going to be functionally overcharged until his circuits heal.”

_ Overcharged?! _ He would be dealing with a completely slag-faced idiot?! The clone shot the Prime a poisonous glare.

“Oh, you just  _ had  _ to try to kill him, didn’t you?” He growled. 

Ratchet was on him before the Prime could formulate a proper response to that.

“If you didn’t want to be treated like a dangerous enemy, you shouldn’t have gotten yourselves involved in human affairs,” he snapped. “And you  _ certainly _ shouldn’t have  _lied_ about the nature of said involvement!”

The clone glared back at him, but said nothing.

Starscream looked between them with the expression of a mech who didn’t know what was going on or how to feel about it at all.

“What’re  _ you  _ doing here?” He asked suspiciously, waving a digit around in the Autobots’ general direction.

The medic gave him a flat stare.

“I fixed you. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

Starscream blinked.

“Oh,” he said. “Thank you.”

Ratchet snorted.

“What do you know? He  _ does  _ come with manners.”

Starscream scrunched up his face thoughtfully. 

“I suppose that I means I owe you something, doesn’t it?” He said.

Oh, no. Oh,  _ Pit _ no.

“That will not be necessary,” the clone said curtly, hauling Starscream up from under his arms. “I believe the Apex Armor is  _ more _ than enough payment for your services.” 

“Wait, hold on,” Starscream piped up. “What’s this about the Apex Armor? Do we  have that, now?” His optics were practically sparkling.

Oh, slag. The clone had run his mouth again.

“ _Had_. Past tense. Don’t worry about it,” he said quickly. “Get out of the dirt, it’s time to go.  _ Elizabeth!_” 

Starscream wobbled to his pedes. There was a rustling from the underbrush, and two humans emerged.

“Oh, I  _ know  _ you!” The inebriated seeker said, swaying unsteadily. “You’re the Autobots’ pet, uh... Human  _ Milky!_” 

The Prime, his medic, and ‘Milky’ all gave him dirty looks. The clone wanted the ground to open up and swallow them both. 

“Oh my  _ god_,” Elizabeth muttered, burying her face in her hands. 

“It’s  _ Miko_,” the smaller human said flatly. “Remember that time in the cave, where you tried to  _ kill _ me?” 

Elizabeth looked between the two incredulously. Starscream waved her off with a limp servo.

“Don’t be so  _dramatic_ ,  I wouldn’tve  _ killed  _ you!” He drawled, and the clone had to catch him to hold him steady. “I was just going to bring you to Megatron!  _ He  _ probably would have killed you. Maybe.” 

“Wow, that makes  _ so _ much of a difference,” Miko deadpanned. 

The Prime and the medic were glaring at them.

Starscream looked like he was going to say something even  _ worse_, so the clone put a servo over his mouth and started pulling him away.

“Alright, it’s time to leave,” he said. Starscream glared at him, but couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to fight him off. 

“Wait up!” Elizabeth called. 

The clone sighed and released Starscream, offering a servo for her to climb into. 

“Why do  _ you  _ get to hold her?” Starscream whined. “ _I _ wanna hold Elizabeth!”

The clone grabbed his arm and began marching away from the humiliating scene they’d just created. 

“You’d  _ drop _ her,” he snapped. “Let’s go.”

“Goodbye!” Starscream called to the displeased Autobots, looking over his shoulder and waving clumsily. 

The clone tugged him along more insistently, dearly hoping that he would never see the Prime, his medic, or their human ever again.

...

‘ _ Soundwave: in possession of important intel. _ ’

The comm message startled Megatron out of his strategizing, and he turned away from the  _Nemesis_ ’s viewport with a raised optical ridge.

“Yes, Soundwave?” He asked impatiently. 

He had been plotting something  splendid- ending, of course, with Optimus’s gruesome demise. 

He could see it now: the Prime would be horribly wounded after a long, intense one-on-one battle in front of both of their respective factions, as a result of Megatron’s superior combat skills.

He would be standing over him, driving in the crushing agony of defeat both figuratively, as he explained to the Prime why was such a failure, and  literally , with his pede on Optimus’s chest- right above his  _ spark chamber- _

‘ _ Lazerbeak: acquired intel during patro _ _,_ ’ Soundwave interrupted, displaying an aerial photo of Starscream and his clone standing with the Autobots. 

_ Peacefully. _

“It seems Dreadwing’s assumptions were correct,” Megatron growled. “Starscream has abandoned the Decepticon cause for the  Prime. ”

Megatron refused to admit it, but that  _burned_.

How dare he. How  _ dare  _ he?

Megatron had given that little traitor freedom, power,  _ meaning_\- and  this was what he received in return? 

He should have seen this coming. Starscream had developed a penchant for treachery and deceit, despite Megatron’s best efforts to cull his thirst for power. He had given the wretch an inch, and he had tried to take a mile. 

He’d done everything he could to keep him under control: humiliation, pain, isolation, forced dependency, undermined authority- the list went on. 

Yet, as the war stretched on, Starscream began to deteriorate from a capable soldier and commander to a greedy, cowardly wreck. He had used his talents- talents which  _ Megatron  _ had helped him to cultivate- to bite the servo that fed him, protected him, given him chance after chance after chance...

Going rogue was one thing. Megatron had been confident Starscream would come crawling back, sniveling and begging for another chance as he always did after his little temper tantrums, having learned his lesson for the time being. 

And, depending on what he had to bring to the table, Megatron may have been lenient.

But, to join his hated enemies, who had once thrown him to the scraplets? To _abandon_ Megatron altogether, as if he didn’t owe him his very  _ spark? _

_ Disgraceful. _

Starscream had sunk to a new low, and Megatron was  finished  trying to salvage whatever usefulness the seeker had left to offer the him. The traitor deserved not a minute more of his time or attention. 

“Soundwave,” Megatron said, “cease your search for Starscream’s whereabouts.” He turned back to the viewport, already planning new and painful ways to kill the Autobots. “It seems we now know where he’s hidden himself.” 

If he ever saw that miserable, pathetic excuse for a mech again, Megatron was going to rip his spark out of its casing.

...

Soundwave nodded at the order, reluctantly deleting his file of potential temporary hiding places for the former Second in Command. 

He hadn’t been able to investigate them all, but he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to waste time visiting either halves of the  _Harbinger_.

He cooed praise to Lazerbeak over their bond, happy to be able to focus all his energy on the tasks that required more attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I’m getting better at writing Megatron! I’m giving him more personality now than ‘fucking jackass.’ Marginally. Slightly. 
> 
> Also, Starscream DOES know manners, he just refuses to use them. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Don’t forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	19. We All Need Laxatives a For Our Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream is on mandatory bed-rest. Clonescream is an idiot. Elizabeth is a sweetheart. Arcee isn’t feeling so great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long (for the precedent I’ve set for my update schedule, that is). 
> 
> Thanks so much for your comments, they mean the world to me!!!

Starscream wasn’t pouting. He was an adult, he did not  _pout_.

He was simply expressing his displeasure. 

“Stop pouting,” his clone said. “Until you’re right in the head again, you’re  _ grounded._”

As if taking orders from his subordinate wasn’t humiliating enough, Elizabeth was stifling giggles. Badly.

Starscream bristled.

“And  _who_ ,” he sneered, waving his servo about in what he felt was an elegant, expressive gesture, “saw fit to put  _ you  _ in charge?” 

The clone caught his servo that, for some reason, was in a completely different place than he’d intended it to be.

“ _Me_ , ” he said. “You’re clearly too incapacitated to make informed decisions at the moment.”

Wait a minute. 

That sounded  _familiar_... 

“Aha!” Starscream crowed, jabbing a digit in his clone’s face. “Treachery! Insubordination! You’re trying to get  _ rid  _ of me!”

The clone gave him an exhausted (and probably completely deceptive) look, brushing his servo away.

“That’s absurd,” he deadpanned. 

Starscream shook his head vigorously, ignoring his clone because he was a  _ liar! _

“It’s not gonna work!” He declared, with all the defiance and dignity of his station.

“Stop _squawking_ ,” the clone replied. “Go recharge.” 

“ _ Never! _ ” 

The clone sighed.

“Come, Elizabeth,” he said. “We’re going scouting.  _You_ ,” he pointed at Starscream, “are going to rest until your systems are fully repaired. Have I made myself clear?” 

How  _ dare  _ he?!

Elizabeth must have noticed the mulish look on his face, because she crossed her arms and leveled him with a stern glare.

“Do it, or I’ll cry,” she threatened. 

That devious little  _ rodent! _

“... _Fine,_ ” Starscream relented. “But, do not think that this is the end of this discussion! I will  _not_ be usurped!”

“Okay,” Elizabeth said, then turned to the clone. “We going, or what?” 

The clone offered her a servo to hop onto and left the ship. A few seconds later, Starscream heard the sounds of transformation and takeoff.

Well, now Elizabeth wasn’t here to cry, so he would  _ not _ recharge! They were both probably just waiting for him to let his guard down, ready to strike at any moment!

He’d show them!

...

The pair was quiet as the clone tore through the sky. Elizabeth fidgeted minutely.

It was strange to have someone in his cockpit- especially someone so fragile. He was hyper-aware if every movement he made, careful not to do anything that could upset Elizabeth’s delicate organic constitution. 

Really, it was no wonder humans didn’t live very long (and he would forever deny the flare of anxiety that thought brought to him every single time it passed through his processor). He felt like one of those angry jumping creatures in Australia with the pouches. 

“We’re not getting in any fights, are we?” Asked Elizabeth. “I don’t think I can handle another one of those, emotionally.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the clone replied. “We’ve got plenty of fuel right  _now_ , we’re simply scouting for potential resources in the future. Neither of you can give me backup, so we’re not risking it.”

“Neat,” Elizabeth said. The clone hummed. “... Are you alright?” 

Where had  _ that _ come from?

“Of course,” he replied. “I’m  not the one who’s _injured_ , after all.”

Elizabeth fidgeted again.

“I just mean that you seem a little... I don’t know.” 

Starscream couldn’t see her (he had never needed sensors on the inside of his own cockpit, after all), but he knew somehow that she was screwing up her face in thought in that way of hers, when she was trying to figure out how to properly word something.

“ _Upset_ ,” she decided, and before he could reply: “That is, for reasons  other than the Apex Armor fiasco.”

...Well.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the clone said. 

“You’ve just been kind of closed off.” Elizabeth sighed. “It feels like I hang out with Starscream more.”

And that was just it, wasn't it? Elizabeth was  _ Starscream’s  _ human, not his. 

Even if he’d been Starscream, once. At least in his memories.

He would never forget that strange, stabbing disappointment he’d felt when he’d awakened in that pod, no longer himself. (He wondered if his brethren had felt it, too- then pushed the thought away as quickly as it had come.)

He  was Starscream (he  _ had _ to be), but he was not Elizabeth’s companion.

...He had missed her.

“You _do_ know that you’re just as important to me, right?” She asked, after he had been silent too long. He didn’t respond. “I’m worried about you.”

That did something strange to the clone’s spark. He decided not to investigate too deeply into whatever it was. 

“No need to be,” he said. “Everything is perfectly fine.”

Elizabeth dropped the subject, but he could tell she was unconvinced. 

...

Arcee didn’t know what she was doing. 

Actually, she  _did_ ,  but she didn’t know  why.

Another lie- she knew _exactly_ what she was doing and why, and bemoaned the loss of her good sense.

She had managed to pilfer a blank datapad off of Ratchet, and found herself scrolling through Starscream’s blog.

She didn’t even know what she was  _ looking _ for-

Wait, no. Yes she did.

And so far, she hadn’t found it. 

She didn’t know why she wanted it so badly.

...That was true.

Feeling bad didn’t fix anything. ‘Sorry’ didn’t bring people back.

She  _ knew _ he wasn’t sorry...

But she kept scrolling.

Something about liking birds that would be almost endearing if it came from literally anyone else. Some rant or another that took awhile to get past.

She’d killed people before. Mostly in self-defense.

There were a few ‘Cons to whom she’d given ends they probably didn’t deserve (who Optimus would  definitely  not approve of killing) after Tailgate had been murdered. 

Sometimes, she wondered if she’d left someone just like her in her wake. If so, they were probably all dead.

Needless to say, she felt guilty. It was all she could do at that point.

_ Starscream _ didn’t feel guilty.  _ Starscream _ wasn’t doing the bare minimum.

She didn’t know why she expected him to. 

A post about Elizabeth. A post about Elizabeth. A post about-

‘My new lieutenant is a strange one. 

Yesterday, she stepped on some form of insect (I couldn’t quite tell) and became unbearably distraught. 

I tried to assure her that its death was meaningless, and that it probably wouldn’t have survived the week anyway, but somehow that made it worse. 

She insisted upon having a funeral for it, and now there’s a little pile of dirt outside covered by a small rock (she scratched ‘RIP’ into it- I suspect that must be the name she gave the creature). 

It reminded me of someone I hate, but I do not find myself annoyed with her foolishness. 

It’s been a long time since all the people I knew that were like that either died or changed.’

Arcee stared at the screen. Her servos shook.

Once, Cliff had accidentally run over a squirrel. 

He’d felt terrible about it, and had made the whole team attend its impromptu funeral in a remote mountain range where no one could see them. 

He’d given a fairly short eulogy. Optimus had made a speech.

The pile of rocks they’d left was probably still there.

‘...Either died or changed.’

‘...Either died...’

‘...Died...’

And Starscream had the _nerve_ to complain that all the nice people were dead, as if he hadn’t killed them himself. 

She threw the datapad against the wall with a scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone please give my girl therapy, she’s in dire need and I worry for her. 
> 
> I imagine none of the ‘bots are innocent, but there’s a difference between stabbing an unarmed prisoner and killing someone on the battlefield.
> 
> Anyway, raise your hand of you're in the ‘idiot who has scrolled through the blog of someone who hurt them to see if they’re sorry’ club! 🤚
> 
> Don’t do it. They’re never sorry.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Don’t forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	20. The Bird Sings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets fucking raw. Starscream has a weird sense of morality sometimes.
> 
> There some descriptions of violence, but it’s nothing graphic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, the humor’s back on. I PROMISE!!! 
> 
> For now, have a buttload of angsty shit courtesy of yours truly and whatever crisis I’m having at the moment. 
> 
> Thanks so much for all your support!!!

They landed high in the mountains.

The clone kept Elizabeth in his cockpit when he shifted into root mode, allowing her a moment to process the change before creeping to the edge of a snowbank and peering over.

Oh, yes- he remembered this mine. 

Small, not heavily fortified, minimal output. Two guards at the entrance, no more than ten miners.

He’d intentionally kept it sparsely occupied, just in case he should ever have need of it- too small to be of any significance to Autobots or Decepticons alike. 

It seemed that had not changed in his absence.

There was precious little energon here, from the perspective of a heavily-armed warship, but for two (smallish) seekers? Whatever was left could most likely sustain them both for a couple weeks. 

“Excellent,” he purred. 

“What’s going on?” Elizabeth asked. “I can’t see anything except for snow.”

Oops.

“Just confirming my suspicions,” he replied. “This remains a potential source of energon for us.” 

“Neat!” 

The clone crept back until he was out of earshot of the drones, and was preparing to take off when he saw a brief flash of green out of the corner of his optic. 

“What was that?” Elizabeth asked.

“...A groundbridge,” the clone replied. “We should investigate.”

He could feel Elizabeth shudder.

“No. _Nuh-Uh._ What if they attack?” The clone frowned.

“They’ll see me leaving either way,” he said. “It’s best to know what I’m dealing with beforehand, so I know what to expect.”

Elizabeth curled up into a ball.

“I don’t like this,” she muttered. 

The clone sighed, and opened the bottom of his cockpit to drop her into his servo. 

“I’ll come retrieve you when I’m finished, then,”he said, depositing her at the base of a builder to block the wind. 

Thankfully, she had had the foresight to bring a thick blanket with her this time. 

“Fine,” she said. “Just don’t take too long.”

“I certainly don’t intend to _exchange_ _ pleasantries_ _,_ ” he replied. “Scream if you need anything.”

Elizabeth nodded. They had yet to come up with a functioning communication system (phones didn’t take comm channel frequencies, sadly). 

With that, he tip-toed through the snowy forest, trying not to acknowledge his own apprehension.

...

Arcee stared at the small pile of rocks on the ground, feeling empty.

She didn’t know why she’d gone to the squirrel grave. It just felt like somewhere she needed to be. 

Cliff had liked Earth’s fauna. She’d never bothered to ask why.

She wished she had.

There were pedesteps crunching in the snow somewhere behind her, and she whirled around, blasters raised, to find the last person she wanted to see in the world.

“What are you doing here?” She asked coldly. 

Starscream drew blasters of his own.

“There’s no need to get  _ violent_,” he said, with his usual touch of mockery. “I was just in the area.”

She could kill him, here and now, and nobody would know it was her. Nobody would even know he was _dead_ , except for his weird clone thing and that human that liked him so much. 

Her blasters warmed. 

She was finding it difficult to care about the people he would leave behind. She couldn’t bring Cliff back, but at the very least she could keep this monster from hurting anyone ever again.

She kept telling herself that that was her motivation. Something _noble_ , that Optimus would do- not the whirlwind of hurt and rage that was building every second she had to look at his ugly face.

“Well?” Starscream asked, cocking his head. “I’m not in the mood to fight, to be honest. I have other matters to attend to.” 

“ _Shut up,_ ” Arcee snapped. “You don’t  _ get  _ to be so casual about this. You don’t get to act like it’s  _ nothing personal!_” 

Starscream raised an optical ridge. 

“War  _ isn’t _ personal unless you  _ make _ it so,” he said matter-of-factly, as if he hadn’t hurt so many people for so long without a second thought. As if none of it _mattered_ to him.

Arcee’s lip curled.

“Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?” 

Starscream bristled.  _ Good. _

She  _ wanted _ him to give her a reason to start shooting. 

“Haven’t  you  killed _your_ fair share of enemies?” He asked. “Seems to me that you’re being a bit hypocritical.”

Arcee had. In  _battle_. Not even the ones she regretted were in non-combat situations.

“I know you,” she sneered. “There was  no way it was fair fight, not if _you_ were involved. There was one of him and _hundreds_ of ‘Cons.” 

“And yet, he _still went in,_ ” Starscream purred. 

Arcee shot a tree not too far behind his head, looking him dead in the optics so he knew it was a warning. He flinched before he could stop himself. 

That brought a curl of dark satisfaction to her, but she wanted to hurt him. To  _ kill _ him.

_ Just keep digging your own grave, you bastard. _

“Do you want a fight, or not?” Starscream snapped. “Standing around isn’t going to accomplish anything!” 

Arcee _wanted_ a fight. She wanted Starscream to  _ hurt.  _

But, that wouldn’t accomplish anything. He wasn’t really a threat, now, and it wouldn’t bring back the dead. 

Killing him would amount to nothing except a testament to her own brutality.

  
_Damnit._

“You put away your weapons first,” she commanded. 

“ _What?!_ ” He squawked. “And leave myself unarmed when you want to  _ kill  _ me?!”

“I won’t shoot an unarmed opponent,” she said. “I’m not _like_ you.”

Starscream stared at her for a moment, as if analyzing something.

“I suppose you aren’t, are you?” He muttered, transforming his blasters away. 

Arcee reluctantly did the same, still glaring at him. 

“I’ll be going, then,” Starscream finally said. “Tell your Prime to ask the humans about ‘veal.’”

He turned and began walking away. Arcee itched to shoot him the back, as disgusting as such an action would be. 

There he went, leaving her with more questions than answers. _Again._

The two-wheeler clenched her fists.

“Wait,” she called. 

Starscream paused, glancing over his shoulder.

“What is it, now?” He sneered.

Arcee pursed her lips.

“When you- when you  _ saved _ me-” the words felt bitter in her mouth. “You said you  _ owed  _ me. As if  not  killing you was a _favor_.”

Starscream turned to face her fully, frowning.

“And what about it?” He asked.

Oh, Primus. This wasn’t going to end well.

She pressed on.

“You’re not like that,” she said. “I’ve never seen you act grateful for _anything_ , except that  _ one time._”

“You presume too much, _Autobot_ ,” Starscream said curtly. “Where are you going with this?”

“You thought I was _justified_ , didnt you?” Silence. “You  _ know  _ you did the wrong thing, and you don’t feel bad about it- but you’re not blaming me. That’s why you did it.”

She expected bluster, or sycophantic lies.

It seemed Starscream was chattier than usual today.

“Do you want to know why?” He asked quietly. 

No.

“Yes.”

Starscream took a few steps closer, and she stiffened. He just stood there, close enough to start looking down at her.

He didn’t loom.

“I was there, once. Where you are. I lost someone, and I had a  _ culprit_.”

“I am  _ not like you,_” Arcee snarled, backing away. “I’m  _ nothing _ like you.”

Starscream didn’t get any closer.

“You’re right,” he said. “Because I was there, and he was pleading for his life, and I hesitated.”

Arcee didn’t like where this was going.

“He had his servo up to block me, you see,” Starscream continued, bringing one up to demonstrate, “and he was busy making excuses. So, I stopped, and I took into mine...”

He clenched his fist. 

“And I ripped his digits out of their sockets. And  _ then, _I shot him through the spark.” 

Arcee felt like she was going to purge.

“You’re  _ sick_,” she said.

“ _You _ wanted to know,” Starscream replied, entirely too casual about something so brutal. “But I know how you felt, and you had it in you to turn away when you knew you were justified. That must have  _ burned_.”

It  _had_ ,  and here he was throwing it back in her face.

“I _hate_ you.” She was shaking. She didn’t know if she wanted to scream or cry. “I hate you  _ so much-_” 

“-Which is exactly why you’re still alive,” Starscream interrupted, then paused. “If you follow my pede-prints, there’s a mine about a mile away. Should sustain you all for a week at most.”

He left. About a minute later, she heard takeoff noises.

Arcee sat down next to the pile of rocks and cried.

...

Elizabeth squirmed grumpily in her seat, the bottom of her blanket almost soaked through.

“Took you long enough,” she muttered.

“My mistake,” the clone replied. “I got caught up exchanging pleasantries. It turns out the mine is all used up.”

“That sucks,” Elizabeth said. “What now?”

“We move on.”

...

Mercifully, only June and Ratchet were present when Arcee returned to base. The medic was fiddling with something, before cursing and carrying it out of the room.

Arcee didn’t watch him go, leaning against the far wall.

“Hey,” June said. “Everything alright?”

“No,” Arcee replied. She slumped into a sitting position.

June came down from the platform and approached her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked. 

Arcee shook her head wordlessly. June sat down next to her. 

The two-wheeler was beginning to feel embarrassed. She was supposed to be  _ tough_. She was supposed to be  _ protecting _ June, not dumping her feelings on her.

June, apparently, didn’t get the memo.

“Do you need a hug?” 

Arcee didn’t want a hug. Arcee didn’t  _ need _ hugs.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. 

The human stood and wrapped her arms around the two-wheeler’s side, resting her head on her shoulder.

If June noticed any coolant dripping off of Arcee’s face, she didn’t say anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt bad about making Arcee cry so I gave her some Mom Comfort™️. She needs all the hugs. 
> 
> The clone, as per usual, is sharing all this fun information that Starscream does Not want people to know. Watch out- next thing you know, they’ll figure out he’s a PERSON and not some Obnoxious Cryptid Entity made of knives (it’s all downhill from there, trust him). 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!!! Don’t forget to leave comment or kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	21. ‘Linking Park’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream goes hog wild back at the ship. Clonescream and Elizabeth have a road trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! Thanks so much for all your comments, they mean the world to me! :)

Starscream was in crisis. 

He hadn’t checked his chronometer, but he was pretty sure Elizabeth and his clone had been gone for  _ days. _

Had they left him? Had he been  _ abandoned?! _

They weren’t allowed to _do_ that!

He heaved himself up (he hadn’t known he’d been lying down) and made his shaky way to the console. 

This was fine. He didn’t  _ need  _ them, anyway! He’d just go make some  _ new  _ friends on the human internet!

...After ranting. He was going to rant  _ so hard! _

...

Elizabeth stood in the check-out line of a gas station in the middle of bumfuck, Kansas, scrolling through tumblr with one hand and holding a bag of beef jerky in the other.

She cursed as she came upon a post from none other than her (dad)  _ ‘commanding officer.’ _ It was entirely in cursive font and took up a significant portion of her dashboard.

“Oh, no,” she moaned. 

“ _Next!_ ” The cashier called, giving her the exhausted, dead-eyed look only a sleep-deprived minimum wage worker could give.

“Oh- sorry!” She said, pocketing her phone and scampering up to the counter.

...

The nice thing about rural Kansas was that there were lots of convenient trees that lined people’s property boundaries, making for a splendid (if uncomfortable) hiding place for certain 25-foot-tall robots if they crouched. 

Unfortunately, it had just rained, making Elizabeth’s quick dash through the empty fields more of a muddy slog. 

That was one thing she did  _ not  _ miss about the Midwest.  


Well. She was pretty _sure_ she didn’t still live in that region. She  _ assumed  _ the  _ Harbinger  _ was somewhere in the Southwestern United States.

Wait a minute. She could be living  _ anywhere  _ with an arid climate and lots of rocks. 

Fucking alien portals.

Finally, she reached the clone’s hiding spot about a half-mile away from the gas station, panting.

“Oh,  _ ew!_” The seeker squawked, recoiling at the state of her shoes. “You’re not putting those in my cockpit. Take them off!”

Elizabeth glared at him, but sat on a half-rotten log and kicked them off. Sadly, her socks were also a bit gross, so they received similar treatment.

The clone was absolutely horrified.

“...What?” She asked. 

“Your- your  _ pedes, _ ” he wheezed. “What is  _ wrong  _ with them?! I forgot about those- those _horrible_ _ appendages!_”

Oh, shit. She forgotten about his weird anti-foot vendetta.

“Put them back, before they get loose and start  _ stealing _ things!” The clone continued, growing increasingly frantic.

“ _What?_ ” Elizabeth asked incredulously. “You  do  know that toes are basically useless, right?” 

The clone, apparently, did not. 

“Then _why_ do you  have them?! ” He almost screeched. “That’s  terrible  design!”

Elizabeth snorted.

“Humans weren’t  _ designed  _ by anybody,” she replied. “Anyway, it’s the  _ hands  _ you should be afraid of.” She wiggled her spindly fingers for emphasis. 

The clone frowned at them, but otherwise didn’t react.

“ Those  are _normal_ ,” he said. “I don’t know  _ what  _ is attached to the ends of your legs, but they’re definitely _malicious!_ ” 

“Starscream, I’m getting cold. It’s October.” 

The clone stared at her a long moment before relenting. 

“Very well, then. But later, you have to help sanitize my cockpit!” Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” she said. The clone scooped her up and took off.

Elizabeth carefully laid the blanket over her lap to avoid making a mess, and began munching on her snacks. 

“Thanks for stopping, by the way,” she said. 

“I’d be a terrible commanding officer if I starved you,” the clone replied. Elizabeth snorted.

‘Commanding officer’-  _ oh shit. _

“ _Fuck _ \- uh,” she fumbled for her phone. “Okay, so I was on tumblr earlier, and Starscream is kind of all over the place.”

“Wait, what?” The clone asked (with no small amount of concern, Elizabeth couldn’t help but notice). 

The teenager cursed again, trying to get her phone to cooperate.

“I can’t get a signal, you may need to land,” she said.

The clone did so, muttering resentfully about ‘stupid inferior technology’ the whole way. 

They wound up somewhere in the middle of the plains, thankfully far enough away from civilization that nobody could see them, but close enough to get a signal.

Elizabeth found the post, and held up her phone so the clone could see. The seeker squinted. 

“...The writing’s too small. I can barely make it out,” he said. 

Elizabeth sighed and put it to text-to-speech.

“Snakes,” said the phone’s monotonous voice. “Snake emoji. Snake emoji. Snake emoji. Snake emoji...”

“ _ Primus _ ,” muttered the clone. Elizabeth grimaced.

“I have beans abandondonded by my treacherous evil subordinates,” the phone continued. “I used this font because it is the snakiest-looking. It has been weeks. I havr been betrayed again.”

Elizabeth put her face in her free hand, rubbing the space between her eyebrows. The clone looked resigned. 

“I donut understand why everyone betrays me. I am very sad. That was very mean-”

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Elizabeth said, turning it off. “Should we go check on him?”

The clone scrubbed at his face tiredly.

“We probably should,” he replied. “What a fragging _idiot_.”

Elizabeth didn’t have the heart to point out that he was basically insulting himself.

...

Starscream was positively _miserable._

His struts ached, he was just a  tad too warm, and he’d gotten bored of tumblr.

On the bright side, his internet search of ‘things to stop being sad’ had turned up the suggestion to listen to music, which led to him searching ‘songs for when sad,’ which in turn brought him to ‘emo’ music.

He’d been listening to this ‘Linking Park’ for  hours , and he felt that they truly understood his frustrations. 

Unfortunately, his optics were malfunctioning- anyone who saw him would think he was  _ crying  _ or something, like some sort of- of-  _ person who cried! _

‘ _ I WANNA SEE YOU CHOKE ON YOUR LIES, SWALLOW UP YOUR GREED, SUFFER ALL ALONE IN YOUR MISERY- _ ’

He _definitely_ wasn’t sobbing facedown on the floor. That would be  _ pathetic. _

In his defense, the floor was nice and cool against his over-warm plating. 

He refused to acknowledge the pedesteps he could feel ringing against the floor.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” said Elizabeth. 

Oh, they’d come back for him!

...Or to  _ finish him off! _

He cried harder, too tired to process the internal conflict. 

“This is _ridiculous_ ,” his clone muttered. 

Starscream didn’t know what he was talking about- this behavior was perfectly dignified!

A pointed pede pushed him onto his side, and the seeker didn’t have the energy to swat it away. Elizabeth gasped.

“Oh, are you okay?” She asked, sitting down next to his face.

The clone sneered.

“Don’t _encourage_ him,” he muttered. “I’ll go turn off that screaming racket.”

“I don’t know what- what you’re  talking about,” Starscream mumbled, optics going unfocused. 

Huh. That was an odd-looking stain on the ceiling-

“I think you need to go to sleep,” Elizabeth said quietly.

Starscream agreed. In fact, he couldn’t quite remember why he’d insisted on staying up in the first place. 

“Okay,” he replied dazedly. 

He was scooped up off the ground, and he fell into recharge with his head resting against the shoulder of someone with a field equal parts annoyed and fond. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamnit, Starscream. 
> 
> (Also, I know I’m making fun of it here, but emo music actually fucks HARD don’t @ me (and a lot of it reminds me of TFP Starscream’s perpetual rage/progressive hopelessness)). 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!!! Don’t forget to leave comments or kudos if enjoyed!! :)


	22. A Circus Of Misfortunes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get another flashback. The clone makes a proposal. Elizabeth is a terrible liar (idea courtesy of Klyju). This is a long one, folks.
> 
> Warning: descriptions of violence, nothing too graphic. Ends after the first section.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this between 2 and 3 AM, so. It might be a little sideways. 
> 
> Hey, remember that weird little flashback in chapter seven that was never acknowledged again? That’s going to become a Thing now. If this fic were a van, I (the driver) would be completely blindfolded and as unaware of where this is going as y’all are. 
> 
> Thanks so much for all your comments, they're my primary motivator to continue this story!

Starscream blinked very slowly, staring vacantly at the dull wall of his cell.

His processor was swimming through sludge. He couldn’t keep track of time. All he knew was that it had been too long since he’d flown, or even spoken to another person.

He was given the bare minimum in the way of fuel. After all, he’d remembered his sire chuckling forever ago (long before all this nonsense began), why waste valuable resources on dead mecha? They only needed him to be alive and conscious for his execution, not _coherent_.

He’d been witness to many of those at the behest of his creators, before he’d come clean about his intentions to break caste, and he knew exactly how his would go:

He’d be dragged into a chamber, read a list of all his (false) charges, and then shot through the spark chamber. 

Quick, easy, efficient. 

His chassis would probably be scrapped or recycled for parts. 

Once, during a particularly traumatizing execution (as if they _all_ hadn’t fragged him up to some degree), the firing squad all managed to just barely miss the spark chamber. In their defense, the mech had been gigantic. It was a mess.

They’d had to finish him off while he was bleeding on the floor, screaming in a way that had interrupted many of Starscream’s recharge cycles since.

He was grateful that he was rather small. He would not have to endure that. It would be over quickly. 

He had been outraged, when he’d first been tossed into his cell. Aggrieved,  _infuriated_ _._ All this cruelty for the simple crime of disagreeing on what he should do with his life. He’d screamed, shouted, cursed, spat, scratched at the walls- _anything_ to make it known that he wanted to tear everything apart.

Then, he became horribly panicked. He’d cried and cried until his systems ran out of coolant and forced him into temporary stasis. 

Now, he did not have the energy to feel anything except resignation.

He should have stayed with his energon seekers. He shouldn’t have pushed his luck so far.

Miserable as he was, he still didn’t want to die. He’d plead, he knew, and cry and scream and kick and do  anything  to delay the inevitable. It simply wasn’t  _ fair. _

Not for either of them. 

Skyfire was probably dead by now, if he hadn’t perished in the crash. Ice was unforgiving on one’s systems. It would have been slow and painful, even for a frame that had been built to withstand the vacuum of space for centuries. 

Starscream _still_ didn’t want to go. The mere thought was _paralyzing-_

It seemed his processor’s deterioration was getting worse- he could have  _ sworn  _ he had felt the entire building shake. How strange. 

He became less sure of that assumption when he heard a muffled commotion outside (a feat, considering that his cell was sound-proofed). The building shook once more, and this time Starscream could actually hear the accompanying explosion.

Suddenly, the lights that had been fragging up his recharge cycles for as long as he’d been there flickered out.

His biolights glowed softly in the dark, too weak now to illuminate anything.

Something punched through the top corner of his door, sending him scuttling back with a frightened yelp. Slowly, what must have been a blade dragged its way down through the think metal, making a horrible screeching noise and kicking up sparks, until it reached the floor.

Two large sets of claws pushed through and pried it back with sheer brute force, tearing and rending until there was a sizable enough chunk for someone very, very big to enter his cell.

The mech’s pedesteps shook the ground, and the corridor outside was dark but for the flashing alarms that couldn’t quite drown out the sounds of battle echoing throughout the facility.

Suffice to say, Starscream was absolutely _terrified._

A pair of red optics stared down at him from a huge, pointy silhouette. In the background, smoke began to creep across the ceiling. 

“...Hello?” Starscream blurted intelligently. 

“You are Starscream of Vos, I presume?” Said a gravelly, _familiar_ voice-

“Wait a minute, aren’t you that gladiator?” Starscream asked. “The political one?”

A pause.

“...My name is  _ Megatronus_ _,_ ” the voice growled. Starscream nodded, almost completely convinced that this was all a hallucination.

“Yes, yes- Sorry about that, I’m not entirely present at the moment. What was it you wanted again?”

“Your  _ name._” Megatronus was getting irritated. Oops.

“Oh, right! Yes, I’m Starscream of Vos!” He replied. 

The seeker could see the barest flash of a shark-like grin, reflecting the light of the gladiator’s fiery optics, before he was abruptly hauled up by the scruff of his neck.

“Wonderful,” Megatronus purred, tucking him under his arm like a sack of spare parts as he exited the cell.  Starscream squeaked at the rough treatment. 

They were joined by a similarly gigantic mech with an empty visor where his face should have been , who did not deign to introduce himself. He was looking worse for wear, trudging sluggishly after them.

Starscream’s processor swam at all the grating new sensory information assaulting him from all sides, from the screeching alarms to the stench of ozone in the air.

Not to mention all the fighting going on around them. He looked up at his unlikely savior.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Starscream shouted over the commotion, “but what, exactly, is going on?” 

Megatronus didn’t spare him a glance. 

“This is a _prison break,_ ” he replied impatiently. 

“Oh!” Starscream said. “Well, I appreciate that very much. I don’t particularly want to die, but I think I would do so for you, now!” 

The seeker couldn’t hear the rumbling chuckles so much as  _ feel  _ them reverberating through Megatronus’s powerful frame. 

“That is all I ask of any of my Decepticons,” he said, “but _do_ try not to expire. I have much planned for you yet.”

That, thought Starscream as he slipped into starved unconsciousness, was a perfectly ominous thing to say.

...

According to Starscream’s chronometer, he’d been in recharge for a solid two days. 

“Well, hello,” said his clone, a mere blurry silhouette on Starscream’s rebooting visual display. “Have you composed yourself?”

The memories of his...  _ Incapacitation _ hit hard and fast, and he grimaced so hard his face hurt.

“Mnn,” he whined. “ _Please _ tell me that was a weird flux.”

“No,” the clone replied. “You really did humiliate the both of us in front of the Autobots. Oh, and don’t worry about that post you made- I took the liberty of deleting it for you. You’re welcome.” 

“I’d thank you, but you’re being  _ insufferable_,” Starscream muttered, rubbing blearily at his optics. 

The clone was unamused. 

“We’re the same person,” he deadpanned. Starscream raised his optical ridges.

“Yes, which means  _ you’d _ say that, too.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“I’m worried about us,” the clone said. Starscream glared at him.

“We’re  fine.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it.”

Another silence.

“You need to shut up, sometimes,” Starscream said. The clone raised an optical ridge.

“You’re only saying that because you know I’m  _right_ ,” he (correctly) pointed out.

Starscream shot him a disdainful glare.

“Why do you always insist on bringing up subjects I  _ don’t want to talk about?_” He growled. 

“Because ignoring your problems is  _ stupid_, and you put far too much stock in the opinions of others,” the clone replied smoothly. “The first step to fixing anything is recognizing that it’s broken.”

Starscream’s wings stiffened, hiking straight up on his back.

“I am  _ not broken!_” He snapped. 

The clone raised his optical ridges. 

“All it takes is one look from Megatron, and you’re pleading for your life,” he said. “We’re supposed to be  _better_ than that.”

Starscream stood abruptly, lifting a servo to slash his clone across the face. Both his wrists were deftly caught and squeezed before he could even get close.

“How  _ dare  _ you?!” Starscream roared, struggling against his clone’s tightening grip. “The absolute  _ audacity_\- do you not share all my memories? Are you  _ not _ privy to every intimate detail of my life?! What gives you the _right_ to\- to stand there and pretend that  _ any _ of this was  _ my fault?!_”

The clone’s expression softened, as did his grip on his creator.

“I _never_ claimed it was your fault,” he said quietly. “But, deep down,  _ you  _ think it is. We  _ are _ supposed to be better than this, but  he hurt us!  He  took everything we had to give and then  threw us away like _garbage._ ”

Starscream’s wings relaxed, dropping to rest almost perpendicular to his back.

“I- I can’t blame all my mistakes on other people,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “Everyone screws up, of course, and we’re no exception. You can’t just say I did  _ nothing wrong_ _._ ”

The clone snorted.

“Stop putting words in my mouth. All I’m saying is that  _ Megatron _ is the source of our problems.” Finally, he released Starscream’s wrists. “Think about it!  _ He _ was the one who initiated the mistreatment, not us.  _ He _ was the one who started holding us to impossible standards.  _ He was the one with all the power, always._” 

Starscream didn’t know how feel about that.

“I-”

“We lived with six of Vos’s most powerful military commanders for  _ eons_. We observed countless training exercises, battle simulations, Pit-we had the entire Air Force Code of Conduct memorized like our own comm frequency! ” Starscream grimaced.

“Don’t remind me, it was _awful_.” The clone looked at him imploringly.

“But it was  _ structured! _ There were  _ rules!_” Starscream looked at the wall, refusing to meet his clone’s optics. “Countless times, Megatron has prioritized his own sadism over the success of our entire  _ fragging faction! _ Don’t you remember that? He’s  _ bad at his job, _ and his treatment of us was an extension of his disorganized priorities! Such behavior would  _ never _ have been tolerated in Vos, because that’s  _ not how a military is supposed to work!_”

Starscream clenched his denta, but sighed.

“Oh, you’re certainly right about  _that_ ,” he muttered. “And we  _ did _ follow the rules, didn’t we? Say what you will about our fragging creators, but they never beat their officers for failure of any sort- the worst they’d get was a  _ tongue-lashing!_”

The clone brightened.

“Precisely!” He said. “I mean, there  _ was  _ the time we witnessed someone getting smacked across the face, but that’s- that’s _hardly_ even  _violence!_ ” 

Starscream giggled hysterically before he could stop himself, then felt his tanks ice over.

“So... Megatron’s behavior isn’t  normal,” he said. “In fact, it’s highly  _ ab_normal. This whole time- I just-”

The clone paused.

“Well,  _yes_ ,” he said. “That was the point I was trying to make.” 

Starscream shook his head.

“No, no- I get that, it’s just... That’s actually  _terrifying_.” His wings slowly descended until they were almost flat against his back. “Because nobody is questioning it- he’s going on a rampage and no one thinks it’s out of the ordinary! He’s- he’s completely unpredictable, and he can do whatever he wants, and I was  _in the thick_ of it for so long without even realizing the _danger_ -”

They both went silent. The clone put his servos on Starscream’s shoulders, staring at him with an uncomfortable intensity.

“ _Exactly_ ,” he said. “And we’re going to make him  _ suffer  _ for it.”

Starscream smiled at that, despite himself.

...

Elizabeth stared at her phone with the most pained expression she had ever made. She was losing years off her life. She could feel the gray hairs setting in already.

Some  _ genius  _ had the bright idea to start making action figures out of Starscream and the other cybertronians, and they looked. Well.

They’d taken some artistic liberties with their appearances.

The Prime looked like a fucking cowboy, for instance. He had the hat and everything. 

The weirdos making these things had also decided that both of the ‘Walmart Robots,’ as they’d been dubbed by the general public, needed to have prominent asscheek-plating. So, that was a thing. (Apparently, the general consensus was that they were both ‘girls.’ Hoo boy.)

Starscream’s was... Less than flattering. It seemed they’d taken inspiration from a dragonfly in lieu of footage that wasn’t produced by shitty phone cameras, because his face was _really_ freaky looking. 

Not that it was a ‘normal’ face by any means (and that was just fine, as far as Elizabeth was concerned- it kept the uncanny valley effect at bay), but _at least_ his eyes didn’t take up half of it.

Not to mention, his slouching was exaggerated to the point of insult. He looked like a creepy little villain character from a Saturday morning cartoon. 

The icing on the shit-cake was the label: ‘ _Baby-Eater_.’

Elizabeth didn’t like _any_ of the possible implications of that at  _ all_. 

The new toys had been the subject of many a meme, and tumblr was positively infested.

Just as Elizabeth was about to swear off the internet forever, the Starscreams entered the room.

“Oh, you’re awake!” She said, not looking at either in particular to avoid mistaken identity. 

“Yes,” said the one in front (bingo!). “It seems I was out for...  Awhile.”

“Don’t sound so  _ grumpy_,” the clone admonished. “It’s better than having been conscious for several  more days to cause problems!”

“Whatever,” Starscream grumbled. He made his way to the console, blissfully unaware of the cyclone of pure diarrrhea he was about to unleash upon himself. “Why don’t we see what I missed while I was recovering?” 

Elizabeth blanched.

“ _ No!” _ She shouted, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically. 

The Starscreams paused, eyeing her curiously. Elizabeth giggled nervously.

“I mean... It’s such a nice day out, isn’t it? Why don’t we go fly around, or something?” The clone gave her an unimpressed stare.

“Elizabeth, you haven’t been outside at  _ all _ today,” he said flatly. “Because it’s ninety-six degrees Fahrenheit, and you said- and I quote: ‘Fuck that bullshit.’” 

Elizabeth smiled nervously. Starscream raised an optical ridge.

“You have to admit, it’s cute that she’s trying,” he said mildly. “But now, I’m suspicious. I will check the tumblr immediately!”

Not a minute later, twin shrieks of outrage had Elizabeth covering her poor, sensitive ears. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m pulling most of Starscream’s backstory out of my ass using a combo of fanon and ‘hey wouldn’t it be neat (horrible) if-’ because Prime’s prequels contradict each other and I write most of this fic at Fuck Off O’ Clock in the morning when I can’t sleep. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Don’t forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed!!! :)


	23. Boomer Humor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knockout time!!! The Terrible Trio are all actually 12 years old. Dreadwing deserves a raise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if these notes are all over the place, technically I should be sleeping right now.
> 
> So sorry for the wait, I got stuck in a bit of a slump! Here’s thanks so much for your continued support!!! 
> 
> Warning: Cylas in his (darkly humorous in the sense of poetic irony, fully deserved, but also not for the squeamish) predicament.

Knockout hummed as he idly scrolled through his datapad, leaning back against a counter.

The human internet had become so much more  _ fun  _ with the exposure of the Autobots and Starscream. Granted, it had  always been fun (so long as you avoided certain corners of it)- but now he was invested in the drama on a  _ personal _ level.

“Please,” croaked a weak voice on the other side of the room, “just let me go. I can’t... I can’t-”

Knockout threw a spare vehicon pede at Cylas. It smacked him in the face.

“Shut it, squishy,” he snapped. “Suck it up and enjoy the taste of your own medicine.” 

Cylas groaned, but didn’t say anything further.  _ Good. _ He was learning.

Knockout turned back to the datapad with a chuckle, uploading an insulting ‘meme’ of Starscream’s face edited onto that dancing monkey the humans seemed to be obsessed with. 

He was  _ so  _ clever!

Between that and yesterday’s ‘Hippity hoppity your kid is now my property,’ with 344 likes (300 of which came from fake accounts he’d created), he would be popular in no time! 

Sure, he’d gotten a couple comments that his posts were in ‘poor taste,’ but those idiots were just  _ jealous_ _._ The humans would soon be acknowledging his natural comedic superiority (not that he  _ needed _ them to- but he  _ deserved _ the recognition)!

He was fine. Why wouldn’t he be? He wasn’t lonely at  all!

The medic continued scrolling, finding an advertisement for those ghastly action figures. He subspaced the datapad, trying to purge the sight from his memory banks.

Frag the  _ rules_, his new primary motivator for remaining in disguise was to avoid the ‘baby-eater’ treatment. Humans were such  _ demented _ little creatures- likely a symptom of being literal Pit-spawn.

He noticed a stray bit of torn neck cabling on the floor, picked it up with his digit-tips, offlined one optic, and flung it at the waste chute across the room.

He missed it by a good few feet. 

The medic glanced at Cylas to make sure he hadn’t seen that. He’d  _ hate _ to have to kill his new lab rat so soon after acquiring him. Thankfully, the parasite had lost consciousness.

With a put-upon sigh, Knockout crossed the room to deposit the mangled cabling in the garbage.

He retrieved the vehicon pede on his way back to the counter, giving Cylas a poke in the side for good measure. The little tape-worm awakened with a shout, before beginning to tug frantically at his restraints. 

Knockout allowed himself a brief cackle at his misery. It was always cute to watch them  _ struggle.  _

Better to focus on  _ that _ than who that decrepit frame used to be.

...Ah, well! 

The medic leaned back against the counter, mentally sorting through his responsibilities.

He’d finished all his reports, pushed Cylas as far as he could for the moment without killing him, and had no patients to attend to. The med-bay was clean, everything was organized, and he wasn’t being bothered about any assignments...

Dare he say it? It seemed he had actually had...  _ Free time! _

He pulled his datapad back out and searched up ‘weird sightings,’ hoping to find more horrible, hilarious humiliation on the part of the mecha stupid enough to reveal themselves to human public.

Instead of the usual blurry video unintentionally focused on Starscream’s codpiece (the organics tended to have the perfect view of it at all times), he was met with a picture of... Well, then! 

He opened his comms.

‘ _ Soundwave, _ ’ he said, ‘ _ I think I found something you might be interested in. _ ’

...

Starscream and his clone, after ranting loudly at one another for the better part of an hour, had both sworn off the human internet forever.

...That had lasted all of fifteen minutes.

“Shut up,” Starscream snapped at Elizabeth, who hadn’t said anything. “This is for the purpose of  _ gathering intelligence!_”

The girl’s judgemental stare intensified.

“Yeah, just like  _ me _ when I’m lurking on Facebook to get the gossip on my relatives,” she deadpanned. 

Starscream didn’t know what that meant, but it was probably sarcastic, so he shot her a stern look.

“Mind your tone,” he scolded. Elizabeth cracked up.

“Okay,  _ dad,_” she said. Starscream bristled.

“I am  _ not  _ your-”

“Focus,” the clone interrupted, grabbing his creator by the chin and forcibly turning his face back to the screen. “You can argue with the child later.”

“I’m not a kid!” Elizabeth protested. “I’m  _ eighteen!_”

The Starscreams shared a knowing glance, but said nothing more.

They scrolled past several irrelevant images, stopping a moment to appreciate that ‘monkey’ dancing sequence he refused to admit was delightful lest Elizabeth accuse him of enjoying ‘boomer humor’ (whatever  _ that _ meant). 

“Is that the fucking _monkey meme?_ ” The girl shouted form the floor. Starscream didn’t look at her.

“No,” he replied as his clone stifled giggles.

“I can hear it from down here!”

“Your organic audials are malfunctioning.”

“Okay, boomer.”

Starscream’s wings flared in annoyance. He did not know what a ‘boomer’ was, but it sounded like something one should _not_ call their superior officer. The clone was in hysterics.

“He’s just- just- look at his stupid  _ hat!_” He howled, leaning against Starscream for support. “And he’s  _dancing!_ Look at his silly little dance!”

Starscream and Elizabeth watched him for a moment with a fair amount of concern and amusement respectively.

“You guys are  _ very  _ easily entertained,” the teenager said. 

“It’s just so  _ stupid!_” The clone exclaimed. 

“ _Moving on,_ ” Starscream said impatiently. “I don’t know  _ why _ I bother with this so-called ‘information superhighway,’ it’s absolutely  _ useless-_”

The display zeroed in on a grainy image of what looked like a meteor made out of-

“ _ Red energon?! _ ” The clone exclaimed, abruptly regaining his composure. Starscream chuckled darkly.

“Who needs the  _ Apex Armor _ when you’re too fast to land a hit on?” He smirked. “It seems the ‘baby-eater’ will be making another public appearance.”

“Jesus _christ_ ,” he heard Elizabeth mutter.

...

Dreadwing circled high above the crater, searching for any sign of where the humans had taken the meteor.

Infernal creatures, stealing what did not belong to them! He had never harbored particularly strong feelings for organics, but he was beginning to _despise_ these insects in particular.

Suddenly, a groundbridge appeared at the lip of the crater, admitting Starscream and his duplicate. One of them immediately began spouting nonsense.

Dreadwing flew closer.

“...Are no match for the mighty Star-  _ Scrap! _ Groundbridge, _groundbridge!_ ” The loud one yelled upon noticing him.

“Wait, I thought  _ you  _ had remote!”

“ _ You don’t have it?! _ ” 

Dreadwing had no patience for their blathering. Today, he would restore Lord Megatron’s faith in his abilities by dispatching his traitorous predecessor... And company.

He opened fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed writing Knockout, he’s so much fun and I love him dearly. He doesn’t get the title of ‘most well-adjusted Decepticon,’ he’s a weird mess and an absolute delight. 
> 
> I’ve decided: the dancing monkey is this universe’s version of the minion memes. 
> 
> Dreadwing doesn’t get paid enough for this bullshit. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!! Don’t forget to comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed!! :)


	24. Everything! Is! Fine!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and his clone fly around. Dreadwing is rapidly developing a vengeful hatred. Knockout and Elizabeth have their respective crises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took awhile, I’ve been a little out of my mind lately lmao
> 
> Thanks so much for all your comments!!!

The clone was in the air immediately after he heard Dreadwing’s blaster fire, not checking to see if Starscream had had the same presence of mind. 

There was no Prime here to distract him now, and he wanted a  _ rematch. _

Starscream had told him all about this  _ usurper  _ after his return to coherence, and he was going to show him that there was only  _ one  _ mech fit for the title of Air Commander.

Well,  _ two _ now- but they were the same person (sort of), so it (maybe) didn’t count!

In his distraction, he almost didn’t dodge a stray shot that grazed the tip of his wing.

Slag. He needed to work on that.

He pulled up into a loop and began firing at Dreadwing as he arced back down, falling into place safely  behind  him.

He was joined by Starscream, who forewent the acrobatics entirely and fired a missile at the larger seeker. It exploded close enough to damage something important, sending him careening off into the desert. 

He heard a  crash  behind them, but didn’t check to see if he was dead.

The pair made the wordless decision to zig-zag around a bit before heading back to the blinking coordinates marked on his HUD’s navigational system as ‘base.’ 

Just in case.

...

It was through sheer force of will that Dreadwing didn’t fall into stasis and die where he crashed. He opened his comms.

_ ‘I require assistance,_ ’ he managed to croak.

The last thought he had before unconsciousness overwhelmed him was that he was going to  _ eviscerate. Starscream. _

...

It had taken seven drones to drag Dreadwing into the med-bay (the Insecticons were unofficially forbidden from handling patients after the Incident they didn’t talk about). Megatron could probably have handled it, but he apparently couldn’t be bothered to stop staring out the viewport like an idiot.

Knockout sincerely hoped that Soundwave was  _ not _ actually a telepath, as had been rumored, because ‘his liege’ fully deserved to have rude things thought at him.

One drawback to Starscream’s defection had been that Knockout no longer had an acceptable target to pretend his ire was directed at. It was one thing to complain to one’s patients that Starscream wouldn’t stop breathing down his neck, but another entirely to bitch about how his sex life had been utterly ruined because he and Breakdown had found Soundwave’s cameras in their respective hab-suites.

The _last_ time he’d said anything about Soundwave directly, he’d found a pile of severed digits on his berth. Megatron was out of the question for obvious reasons.  
  


Knockout clamped a fuel line shut, narrowing his optics resentfully at Dreadwing.

He couldn’t bitch about  _ Dreadwing_ _._ The slagger was too  _ respectful. _

He never bothered Knockout with any ridiculous whining. He didn’t demand a frankly ridiculous amount of detailed reports about  _ every. Single. Incident. _ That happened in his med-bay. He didn’t steal his porn and pretend to be disgusted by it even though his favorite datapads  _ kept disappearing. _

Pit, Dreadwing barely even  _ talked _ to him! How could he possibly have any grievances with someone so...  _ Tolerable?! _

Knockout was going to go insane without that catharsis. How was he supposed to complain  now  without making it look like he had some sort of weird  _ thing  _ about Starscream, in the absence of someone else he was allowed to openly despise?

Bottling up his ire was beginning to take its toll.

Not to mention, without Starscream there to give him a long list of petty grievances to gripe about, Knockout had to contend with the fact that he was alone. 

On a warship led by a _lunatic_ who had _willingly_ stabbed a shard of  dark energon  into his spark chamber.

On a planet that was  _ literally  _ the decaying carcass of the Unmaker himself. 

Being constantly monitored by a creep who would report any missteps to said lunatic who, again, had  _ literally infused himself with the blood of the fragging Chaos-Bringer, an entity which also happened to be the planet he was currently residing on. _

Once Dreadwing had stabilized, Knockout paused, letting the weight of his situation sink into him. 

If he hadn’t been on the strict no-hit list as the only medic on the ship, he probably would’ve gotten out ages ago. Pit, he  _ should _ have left after Megatron refused to rescue Breakdown from the humans that had turned him into the abomination currently restrained in his laboratory. 

Scratch that- he should have booked it when he’d had to clean up after Megatron’s ‘demonstration’ of what he did to traitors. The look he’d given him when he’d dropped Starscream’s mangled chassis on the floor of the med-bay suggested that as soon as Knockout became any less useful, he was on the chopping block. 

And he didn’t even get to  _ complain. _

His servos began to shake. He clenched them into fists and clenched his jaw.

_ Nope! _ No, absolutely not. He would  _ not _ panic while he had a patient to attend to. 

Or _ever._ Because panicking was  _ stupid_ _,_ and only stupid people did it. He was fine. 

He got back to work on Dreadwing. 

...

The  Harbinger  was quiet, without the Starscreams stomping around in their gigantic stiletto heels.

It was eerie.

It wasn’t often that Elizabeth got the place to herself, and that was just as well as far as she was concerned.

Everything was a lot more intimidating without two giant, overconfident father figures there to keep her safe. Lonely, too.

She had to think about the fact that she hadn’t seen anyone from her old life in almost two months, and that contacting anyone she loved would be a terrible idea, because she was probably committing treason by living with and helping Starscream.

She had to think about how utterly rejected she had been by her parents, when she had finally mustered up the courage to share her real identity after  _ years _ of telling herself ‘They wouldn’t do that, they love me. They love me.’

As it turned out, they loved their  _ idea  _ of her- someone who didn’t even exist. They did not love  _ Elizabeth.  _

Sometimes, she had to wonder if anyone loved her at all.

She knew she loved Starscream, and his clone by extension, due in equal parts to the fact that he seemed to want her around so badly and a sort rebound-instinct. 

She knew Starscream definitely  _ liked  _ her, perhaps more than anyone else, but she wasn’t going to kid herself: love was probably off the table. The only reason she kept insisting on thinking of him as her ‘dad’ was because she  needed  a parent right now more than anything. 

Oh,  _ Christ. _

She had just curled up on her clothing-pile to settle in for a good cry she heard the familiar sounds of jet engines drawing closer.

Abruptly, she sat up and scrubbed the tears out of her eyes, taking several deep breaths to regain her composure. The seekers walked in with identical disgruntled expressions.

“Hey, guys!” She chirped. “Howcome you didn’t take the groundbridge?” 

“ _He _ forgot to bring the remote,” one of them said, jerking his thumb-digit at the other. The accused Starscream was positively affronted.

“ _Me?!_ ” He exclaimed. “I was expecting  _ you  _ to grab it!”

Elizabeth sat back to watch the bickering, snickering at the increasingly dramatic gesticulation and agitated wing movements, shoving all her melancholy thoughts _deep_ down until she didn’t have to acknowledge them anymore.  
  


Life was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Don’t forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	25. Oh, Bother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth gets a job! Knockout gets an assignment! Arcee gets a headache!
> 
> Warning: CYLAS is in this chapter, and everything associated with him is squicky. Proceed with caution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been over a week, christ. So sorry about that, I’ve been sorting this story out. 
> 
> I hope y’all are doing well, given the current global circumstances- stay safe, wash your hands, and don’t go licking surfaces that are frequently touched by other people!

Elizabeth was perched at the edge of her table, kicking her legs in the open air in a poor attempt to alleviate her boredom.

“So, uh...” Neither seeker looked up from their frantic work at the console. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The Starscreams shared a look. One bumped the other with his hip, jerking his head towards Elizabeth. The other sighed.

“Actually, in light of recent...  _ Incidents, _ I had an idea,” he said, approaching her with a beat-up datapad. “This is connected to the groundbridge generator and our comms. Should anything happen to the remote, we will relay the coordinates to you, and you will activate the groundbridge yourself.”

Elizabeth was stunned. This was the first real responsibility she’d been entrusted with the entire time she’d been there.

“Awesome,” she said. “So, how do I do that?”

The seeker tilted his head.

“How do you do _what?_ ” He asked. Elizabeth made a vague gesture in the general direction of the datapad.

“Any of it?” 

The Starscream at the console barked a short laugh.

“I  _ told _ you this was a bad idea,” he crowed. The other glared at him.

“Shut it, you! It’s nothing I can’t teach her!” He flicked his wings disdainfully. “Besides, I don’t want to hear  any  complaining about ‘bad ideas’ from the mech that took a poorly-equipped human to one of the harshest environments on the planet and almost _froze_ her!” 

Ah, so she was speaking to the _original_ Starscream. That clone’s wings dipped in embarrassment, and he muttered to himself about ‘stupid fragile human bodies’ as he continued his search for the red energon’s location. Starscream turned back to her with a small frown.

“Now, where to begin?” He murmured. Elizabeth shrugged.

“How about at ‘turning it on,’” she suggested drily. 

“...Right,” Starscream said.

At the console, the clone snickered.

...

“ _ Augh! _ ” Cylas screamed, thrashing in bonds as his leg was bored into with a drill. 

Knockout cackled at his ineffectual struggling, pushing deeper.

“You know, it’s  _ fascinating _ that your sensory systems are still intact after everything they’ve been through,” he said conversationally over the din of screeching metal and cries of agony. “I have to wonder how much of that is simply _instinct!_ Only one way to find out-”

“ _ Knockout! _ ” Megatron snapped, taking up almost the entire doorway with his silhouette. “Why are you not attending to your duties?”

The medic froze, and he hastily extracted his drill from the mangled hole he’d made of Cylas’s left knee-joint.

“My liege!” He chuckled nervously. “Pardon me, I was simply... Conducting an _experiment._ ”

Megatron raised one unimpressed optical ridge, and stride into the room to loom over his medic. Knockout remembered with a certain amount of dawning horror that the warlord was almost twice his height, and craned his neck to see his face.

Megatron’s expression darkened further at his audacity, and Knockout lowered his optics to somewhere more respectful.

Unfortunately, that left the medic with a face-full of his liege’s crotch. _Joy._

“I do not mind if you choose to indulge your  _hobbies_ , Doctor,” Megatron said, “when you are  _ not  _ on duty. Your little _side-projects_ do not take precedence over your responsibilities. Get back to work.”

Knockout nodded, trying not to look directly at the warlord’s interface panel. 

  
_ This is like the intro to a bad porno, _ he thought.

“Of course, my lord,” he replied, trying not to shake too noticeably. “But, uh- you see- I’ve already finished all my work for today! I just figured that, with some free time on my servos...”

Megatron remained unimpressed.

_ Shut up, shut up, shut up! _

“...That I could further the interests of the cause through my research?” He finished with a squeak. 

Megatron studied him for a long moment. Knockout tried not to squirm under the weight of his full attention. 

“You say you have  _ nothing _ else to occupy your time with?” Megatron asked mildly, his tone a touch too passive. 

Knockout had a massive fake, lopsided grin plastered across his face, feeling quite like an idiot.

“Er- yes, my liege. For the time being.” 

Megatron hummed thoughtfully.

“I see. In that case, allow me to  _alleviate_ your boredom,” he said. 

If Knockout had been physiologically capable of it, he was certain he would be ‘shitting bricks,’ as the humans were so fond of saying. 

“Oh?” He asked, still smiling stupidly.

Megatron smirked, in that way of his that suggested that he was about to do something its recipient would absolutely hate. That smirk was only ever fun when directed at  _ someone else. _

“Since you seem to have so  little to do, I am assigning you the task of retrieving the red energon you so _helpfully_ discovered on the human internet.” 

That  _ glitch. _ Knockout wanted to argue, but he’d long since given up on convincing his superiors that his talents were best utilized as a non-combatant.

“ _Also_ while you should have been on duty. Another period of idleness, I presume?” The warlord continued condescendingly, as if Knockout didn’t do more for the fragging Decepticons in a  _ day  _ than Megatron did in a  _year._ He clenched his jaw.

“Of course, my liege,” the medic replied through gritted denta. “I am  always happy to serve the interests of the cause.” 

“Wonderful news,” Megatron purred, still infuriatingly smug. “I trust you won’t fail me then,  _ Doctor._”

He left before Knockout could reply.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” the medic muttered resentfully. 

A hoarse, rattling laugh came from the side.

“Playtime’s over, you  _ bastard_,” Cylas spat. 

Still glaring resolutely at the door Megatron had retreated through, Knockout stabbed his drill blindly into Cylas. He ignored the tearing and gurgling noises, pushing until he was clean through the slab behind him. 

He pulled out, then glanced to the side to see a gaping hole in the chesplate, where the human’s head was supposed to be. He looked down at the mess on his drill with a disgusted curl of his lip.

“...Slag,” he muttered. 

...

The first thing Arcee was met with upon exiting the groundbridge was the sight of The red energon dangling from a crane.

A picosecond later, she noticed Starscream and his clone messing around with it, trying to maneuver its tiny controls.

“...No, no, you idiot- like  _ this-_”

“You just  _ broke it!_”

_ Primus. _

“Starscream!” Optimus called, prompting her and Bumblebee to draw their blasters. “I cannot allow you to take the red energon. Surrender now, or we will have to use force!”

Two pairs of glowing red optics peered at them through the gloom, not unlike those little animals Arcee occasionally glimpsed at the side of the road. The meteor’s glow reflected off their plating, making the whole scene rather ominous. One of them chuckled darkly.

“I don’t think so. Finders keepers, _Autobots!_ ”

Arcee was officially fed up. She shot at the pedes of the one closest to her, causing them both to yelp.

“You’re outnumbered,” she called, “just give it up!” One stiffened indignantly.

“Did you just  _shoot_ at me-?!”

“Why do  _ you  _ get to have it, hm?” The other one interrupted. “What are you even going to use it for? It’s probably only going to  _ collect dust _ in your storage room!”

“-Seriously, you could have  _ hit the meteor-_”

“-Stay on my  _ good _ side, and perhaps I won’t use it on  _ you!_”

Arcee scowled impatiently.

“Can I kill him?” She whispered to Optimus, only half-joking. “I  _ really _ want to kill him.”

The Prime shot her a disapproving frown. She raised her optical ridges pointedly. Optimus sternly shook his head.

“ _ Starscream, _ ” he said firmly, using his I-Am-The-Prime-And-You-Will-Do-As-I-Command tone typically reserved for unruly soldiers. 

She’d heard Miko call it the ‘Dad-voice’ once. 

The one she’d shot at looked like he wanted to protest, but the other one grabbed him by the winglet and pulled him behind the crane.

There was much furious hissing, followed by what sounded like ‘I can take them!’ She was reminded of a certain overzealous rookie, and grimaced.

“That’s fragging  _ stupid!_” She heard one of them shout, followed by more hissing whispers. 

Finally, the pair emerged. On was stern, and the other was slouched. 

“You won’t use it against us?” The mature one asked. 

“Not unless you force our hand,” Optimus replied, patient as ever. 

Starscream sighed like the most _put-upon_ bot in the universe. It grated Arcee’s nerves.

“Very well, then,” the seeker replied. “I suppose it’s preferable to  _ Megatron _ getting his slimy servos all over it.”

On _that,_ at least, they could all agree-

A trio of trilling Insecticons landed behind them.

“Hate to rain on your parade,  _ Screamer,_” said Knockout, stepping out from behind a shipping container and twirling his staff. “By the way, Big M sends his regards.”

She and the Starscreams spoke in unison:

“ _ Scrap. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cylas is dead. Whoops.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!!! Don’t forget to comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed!!!


	26. KO-Anne Has Had ENOUGH!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knockout prescribes one stop-being-a-jackass-smackdown. Painful truths are tossed out into the open. Clonescream is still in love with the idea of himself. Optimus Prime is a socially awkward mess.
> 
> Warning: it gets a little violent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title was inspired by a tumblr post. 
> 
> Thanks so much for all your comments, you guys are the best!!! :)

If you had a blaster to his head, Knockout would admit to _not_ actually hating Starscream’s existence.

That didn’t stop him from launching himself at the bastard as soon as he knew he wouldn’t be penalized for it, however.

Starscream fancied himself a good liar and a savvy politician. Knockout scoffed at that- the mech couldn’t tell a fib to save his life. His self-control was essentially _nonexistent._

Knockout, though? Knockout was, not to toot his own horn, the  _ best _ liar he’d ever met. The fact that he was civil, and even polite, when there wasn’t a single mech alive he didn’t want to at least  _ strangle _ said as much. 

He  _ deserved _ this little break from routine.

The Starscream he targeted never even saw the business end of his staff coming, too distracted by his lookalike getting mauled by an insecticon.

“Hello,  _ Herr Kommandant,_” he sneered, jabbing the seeker right between his wings. “Long time, no see.”

Starscream went down with a pained squawk. Knockout  could  have used a higher voltage on him, but he was itching for a fight, and he needed to make someone  _ hurt. _

He kicked him so that he was face-up, and planted a pede right over the seeker’s decepticon insignia. 

“I put up with a _heap_ of scrap from you, you know,” Knockout said conversationally, putting a little more weight on Starscream’s chesplate. “In fact, I did you a lot of one-sided favors, now that I’m thinking about it.”

Starscream seemed to come back to himself somewhat, still twitching from the shock.

“Aren’t you just the picture of  _ philanthropy,_” he croaked.

Knockout didn’t like that. He  _ deserved  _ to be taken seriously as a threat- he had the mech trapped _helplessly underpede,_ damnit!

“Big talk for someone whose weapons systems are _still_ _ offline,_” he purred, putting his full weight on the pede pinning Starscream down. “I think it’s about time you started showing a little  _ respect._”

Starscream laughed hoarsely, voice laced with static.

“Respect is  _ earned,  _ Doctor,” he replied, scratching shallow furrows in Knockout’s ankle with one shaky servo. 

That was the  last  straw. Something in him  _ snapped. _

Knockout shook Starscream’s claws off his pede and kicked the seeker under his chin, causing his head to snap back and hit the ground  _ hard. _

“Ohoho, you want to talk to me about _earning_ _ respect?!_” He hissed, drawing back his staff like a golf club and smacking Starscream into the air.

The seeker landed on his wing a few meters away, bending it out of shape. His systems were almost fully recovered from the surge of electricity they had experienced earlier, so Knockout shocked him again. 

“How many times have I _saved your life?_ ” The medic asked coldly, tilting Starscream’s chin up with the end of his staff. “How many times have I listened to you whine and complain about your sorry circumstances?  _ How many of your bad decisions have I had to clean up after?!_” 

Starscream wheezed, shuffling backward until he hit a metal shipping container. Knockout stepped closer, narrowing his optics.

“I’ve been working my aft off since the day I got here for just a  _ shred  _ of decency, and even  that  was apparently  _ too hard  _ for you. I’ve been civil. I’ve  _ indulged _ you. I helped you  _ plot against Lord Megatron,  _ for Pit’s sake!” He knelt over Starscream’s twitching frame, casting a shadow over his prone form. 

The seeker was now visibly  _ terrified.  _ Good.

“If there’s anyone around here who needs to ‘earn’ their respect, it’s _you,_ ” he said icily, increasing the voltage on his staff to something more lethal. “And so far? You’ve fallen _painfully_ short. I’m sure Lord Megatron won’t mind if I allow myself a little _catharsis-_ there are _two_ of you running around now, after all.”

He raised his staff, allowing himself a moment to savor the horror on Starscream’s face as he shrank into wall of shipping containers behind him, relishing in the first acknowledgement of his capability he had _ever_ received from him-

Something hard cracked him upside the head. He blacked out.

...

The clone dropped the severed mandible he’d torn from his opponent before chasing him off, surveying the damage.

“Are you alright?” He asked, limping to his lookalike’s side. “Where’s the remote?”

Starscream’s systems seemed to be recovering quickly, to his relief. Knockout’s shock staff was  _ nasty. _

“My subspace isn’t responding yet, we may have to wait a minute,” the other seeker muttered. He glanced to his fallen former comrade, face falling into a more thoughtful expression. “Starscream?”

“Yes?” The clone asked, cocking an optical ridge. Starscream frowned slightly.

“I’m- I’m a better leader than Megatron, right?” He asked.

The clone recoiled.

“ _ Infinitely, _ ” he snapped. “Where is _that_ coming from? Has your neural net been fried worse than I thought?” 

Starscream glanced at Knockout again, looking a little sick.

“No,” he replied, “I- oh,  _ slag._”

The clone followed his gaze, feeling his tanks drop at the sight of the insecticon he thought he’d defeated flying off with the red energon, joined by his fellows.

“No, no, _no,_ ” he muttered, assessing his options.

“He’s out of range,” Starscream noted resignedly, slumping. The clone narrowed his optics.

“ _Blaster _ range,” he replied. 

He aimed both his missiles at the sky and fired. 

...

Prime knew something was wrong as soon as the insecticon he’d been battling took off without a second glance after knocking him to the ground. 

A quick glance to the sky revealed the cause: all three of them were escaping with the red energon. It was too late. They’d lost.

“No!” He cried, firing after them even though he knew they were out of range.

Suddenly, something hit the meteor, triggering a massive explosion that rocked the harbor.

Insecticon body parts rained from the sky.

One of the Starscreams stood up from his crouched position, both missiles noticeably absent. His lip curled.

“All that for nothing,” he muttered, voice barely audible from where he was standing. 

“Starscream!” Optimus called, both suspicious and pleasantly surprised. The seeker stiffened, turning his way.

“What is it _now,_ Prime?” He asked flatly, hardly even bothering to flick his wings in distaste.

Optimus didn’t know whether that was a sign of diminishing animosity or exhaustion. He chose to be optimistic.

“...Thank you,” he said. “With the power of red energon, Megatron could have become exponentially more dangerous.”

Starscream scoffed, helping his identical counterpart up off the ground. 

“I didn’t do it for  you,  _Prime,_ ” he replied, taking a remote of some sort that was offered up by the other one. “It was more of a spiteful gesture than anything.”

They both knew Starscream was smarter than that. Optimus didn’t push the matter.

“Regardless,” he said. “Are you in need of medical attention?”

That stopped them both. 

“I think we’ve had  enough  of _medics_ for today,” the one he’d been speaking to replied with an imperious sniff. 

The other looked at him as if he’d declared his intention to conjunx a scraplet right there in front of everyone.

“Speak for  _ yourself!_” He exclaimed. “My wing is bent, and it hurts like the Pit!”

Optimus Prime nodded serenely, as if he hadn’t secretly been hoping they’d both decline his offer. Ratchet was going to be furious that he’d so readily volunteered his services.

“Very well,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starscream: hey..... you don’t think I might be a bad boss, do you?  
> Clonescream: pfffff nah, it not like you murdered a subordinate to test the energon harvester, routinely slap around whoever’s in your blast radius when you lose your temper, or forego basic decency altogether or anything lmao  
> Starscream: ://///////// oops
> 
> (Knockout isn’t the picture of innocence either, but goddamn he deserved better)
> 
> Thanks for reading, don’t forget to leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!!! :)


	27. Knockout is Knock-OUT!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knockout makes some decisions. Starscream is a pain in the ass, as per usual. Ratchet and Arcee are long-suffering. Optimus is patient. Smokescreen is Smokescreen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your comments!!!!
> 
> Here’s another one! :)

Knockout awoke on his front, with a sharp pain in the side of his head. 

His memory files finished rebooting, and he groaned, letting his face fall back onto the concrete with a muffled  _ clang. _

He needed a break- Pit, an _extended vacation!_ He was _completely_ out of control!

First he killed his very important and useful lab-rat, and now he was trying to murder Starscream.  _ Starscream! _

Now, Knockout considered himself a generous mech- he didn’t kill people he had a mere _general disdain_ for. He couldn’t afford to. The seeker may have been a colossal pain in the aft, but he was no  _ Megatron _ (much as he obviously _wished_ he could be).

If this kept up, all his pent-up rage was going to make him do something very,  _ very  _ stupid. 

He couldn’t go back to the  _ Nemesis  _ like this, he’d get killed! Medic or not, Megatron tended to treat all his non-Soundwave subordinates the same: with utter contempt. 

He couldn’t simply jump ship, either! Again, he’d be found and killed-

A blaster powered up somewhere above him.

“Freeze,” ordered the two-wheeler. Knockout complied, hardly daring to look up to see what was going on.

“Hello to you, too,” he said. “I presume we lost?” 

“Yep.”

“I see.” He squirmed uncomfortably, forming a plan. “What now, then?”

“We’re going to take you in for questioning.” 

Of course.

“And then what?” Knockout asked, allowing himself the beginnings of a smirk. “Are you going to hold me for ransom, like a bargaining chip? Will I get to at least polish?”

The two-wheeler’s stance shifted a bit.

“What are you getting at?” She asked suspiciously. 

“Maybe you could just keep me prisoner forever. You don’t _have_ to give me back, you know.” He lifted his head a bit, pulling his arms in and resting his chin on his wrists with a cheeky smile. “Think about it! Megatron loses his only medic, I’m no longer a threat, and _you_ get free information!”

Arcee’s optics narrowed.

“What do _you_ get out of it?” She asked, then paused. “Are you trying to _defect?_ ”

Knockout raised his optical ridges.

“Who, _me?_ Perish the thought!” He tilted his head with the most innocent smile he could muster. “I’m not getting anything out of this at _all!_ I’m just your lowly prisoner, who you really, _really_ don’t have to give back.”

Arcee scrutinized him for a moment.

“I’m serious,” Knockout said. “ _Please_ don’t give me back.”

“Optimus!” Arcee called, blasters still trained on him. “I’ve got a situation!”

...

Ratchet could feel his optic twitching as he was beset by two whiny Starscreams almost immediately upon exiting the groundbridge.

Optimus had explained the situation (or, how he’d volunteered Ratchet’s services without _consulting him_ ) to him over the comm, and he was _less than happy,_ to say the least. 

“I thought only  _ one _ of you needed help,” he deadpanned, surveying the damage to both their frames critically.

“I changed my mind!” Said the one who looked like he’d been mauled by an insecticon. “I think I’m leaking.”

He was. In several different places.

Ratchet sighed.

“Get over here, then,” he grunted, shooing them both to a smashed shipping container to use as a makeshift bench.

“Do _me_ first!” Said the one with the bent wing, shoving the other out of the way. “ _I’m _ the one who wanted your services, and my wing needs to be fixed _immediately!_ ”

Ratchet blinked at him.

“I’m having a  _ trauma, _ you see,” the seeker clarified, clearly not quite understanding the meaning of the word ‘trauma.’ “I almost  _ died!_”

Ratchet grabbed him by the shoulders and sat him down with as much force as he could without actually hurting him.

“Starscream,” he said, straightening the appendage out and beginning his repairs in the seams, “I once saw you claw somebody’s optics out even though you missing both legs and a wing. While he was  standing. _ You  climbed him._”

“I was angry,” Starscream replied defensively. “And that guy was being a _real_ _glitch!_ ”

Ratchet had nothing to say to that.

The damage was minimal, and the repair was over in less than five minutes. Ratchet fixed a couple dislodged plates in the back of the seeker’s head after a scan revealed that his processor was unharmed ( _physically_ speaking). 

The other one was in worse shape, but most of the damage was cosmetic- save for his damaged knee-joint. 

“Wait, wait- what are you doing- put that  _ back!_” The seeker screeched, grabbing at the pointy knee-guard Ratchet had carefully removed. 

“I need to be able to  _ reach  _ the components I need to repair, Starscream,” he snapped, snatching the piece of armor back. Starscream whined.

“But, it’s- it’s  _ naked!_” Ratchet ignored him, focusing on fixing the inner mechanics of the joint. “It’s so  _ indecent!_” 

The medic finished fixing up his knee and reattached the armor.

“You’re welcome,” he said flatly. “Now go away.”

The Starscreams gave him identical haughty looks of disdain, and strutted off. Not long after, they vanished in a flash of green.

Bumblebee approached him shyly, holding out a severed thumb-digit. Ratchet’s optical ridges shot skyward, and he sat the scout down as quickly as he could.

“ _Primus,_ kid! Why didn’t you say something earlier?!”

“ _ You were busy, _ ” Bumblebee whirred. 

“Yeah, with  _ Starscream!_” Ratchet said as he began sorting out the torn struts and wiring to better reattach the (quite beat-up) appendage. “I don’t have the equipment to fix this here- it’s going to have to be replaced. Why don’t you head back to base?”

Bumblebee nodded, and about fifteen seconds later a groundbridge opened.

Almost immediately after the mature,  _ responsible _ young scout had disappeared, he was replaced by his noisier counterpart.

“I heard there was a  _ prisoner!_” Smokescreen cheered, grinning like a maniac.

Sadly, before Ratchet could corral him back to base, the groundbridge closed. He sighed. 

“Indeed,” Optimus replied, pushing Knockout ahead of him in cuffs. 

The Decepticon CMO was smug.  _ Too  _ smug, for a prisoner. Ratchet narrowed his optics.

“No,” he said. “Nuh-Uh. Absolutely not. This has ‘trap’ written  _all_ over it!”

Optimus furrowed his optical ridges.

“Ratchet-” He started, but the medic cut him off.

“ _No, _ Optimus. Just  _ look _ at him!” He gestured to Knockout, whose smirk had only gotten wider. “He looks like the- the  _ ‘rat that got the cranberry,’ _ as the humans say!  _ No _ prisoner is that happy unless there’s something going on!” 

“Yeah!” Smokescreen shouted, jumping on the bandwagon. “He’s probably planning to get  all  up in our business with his creepy little ‘Con servos!” 

“Actually, Knockout is defecting,” Optimus said. Arcee nodded.

“I’m not  _ defecting,  _ I’m being  _ taken prisoner!_” Knockout corrected, still grinning like it was his creation day. His gaze grew distant. 

“I’m  _ not _ happy to be taken away from my slavish duties aboard a warship with no privacy or freedom, where every day I run the risk of getting slagged because Megatron may have an unexpected temper tantrum- _not at all!_ I’m  _ definitely _ going to miss having to call him ‘master’ sometimes, which is something I _don’t_ find creepy or hypocritical in the slightest! Truly, I’m _so_ _ grieved  _ that I won’t be able to serve the cause that I _definitely_ believe in and care about!” 

His smile was falling. 

“Oh, and have I mentioned the occasional  _ dark energon experiment _ that always goes  so  _well_ for us? I  _ love  _ being around the _literal blood of the Unmaker himself_ every single day! My life is  _ fantastic, _ wouldn’t trade for anything! I most _certainly_ would  _ not  _ prefer to relax in a cell instead of waking up _every cursed fragging day on this_ _ literal hellscape of a mudball wondering how I’m going to get tossed to the scraplets  this _ _week!_ ”

The Autobots watched Knockout uncomfortably, who was looking into the distance with an expression of deep existential dread settling into his face. 

“...Something you’d like to share with the class?” Arcee asked. Knockout shook himself out of his stupor.

“Nope!” He chirped, letting himself fall backwards. Optimus caught him by his shoulders before he could hit the ground. “My, my- it seems I’m too  _ exhausted  _ to continue walking!  _ Someone’s  _ going to have to carry me!”

He winked up at the Prime, wiggling his optical ridges. Ratchet felt exhausted already. 

Optimus paused thoughtfully, then tossed Knockout over his shoulder like a sack of spare parts. The sports car squawked in surprise.

‘ _Bumblebee, can you open a groundbridge?_ ’  Ratchet commed. The scout beeped an affirmative. 

“Mm, I could get  _ used _ to this,” Knockout said.

Based on the where the mech’s head was positioned, Smokescreen’s scandalized expression from where he was standing behind them, and what he knew about the Decepticon CMO, Ratchet could infer that he was probably staring at Optimus Prime’s aft.

“Is that  _ allowed?_” Smokescreen asked loudly. Arcee elbowed him. 

Ratchet sighed.

He needed a vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, don’t forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	28. Birthday Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth is having a Time of it. Starscream is once again reminded of himself. The clone makes questionable decisions. Fowler deserves a raise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry this took longer than usual, my brain has decided to pull some absolute Fuckshit and make me wallow in depression for some stupid reason. 
> 
> It’s like ‘Hey hey bitch I bet you want some good old fashioned bitter cathartic-crying in the middle of the night while listening to music that reminds you of your trauma! What’s that? You’ve got actual THINGS to do with your life? Not with that attitude!’ 
> 
> You fucks (I mean that affectionately, lovely readers <3) are lucky I didn’t do much during that period of time, because I had an entire unnecessarily angsty arc planned out for this fic that would have absolutely thrown it all out of whack. You would have HATED it. /I/ would have hated it. Starscream especially would have hated it.
> 
> Anyway, have some words!

After months of living with a human, the species as a whole seemed less disgusting.

Of course, their fueling habits were horrific, and their waste disposal methods were simply...  _ Awful,  _ but Starscream found that they really were just tiny people.

Minuscule, greasy, soft, fuzzy people who died very quickly and easily (unless you actually  _ wanted _ them to, in which case they spontaneously developed immortality).

His growing tolerance did not necessarily mean that he actually  _ liked  _ the pesky vermin, of course- but that he valued  _ one _ in particular.

Elizabeth was a fluke. She must have ‘mutated,’ or ‘evolved,’ or whatever these creatures did that made them so inconsistent with each other, because she  _ wasn’t _ abhorrent! 

Quite the opposite, in fact. She was delightful and very talented. At what, Starscream was uncertain, but that statement just felt  _ correct. _ She was superior to every other existing human in every conceivable way, and that was a scientific fact.

Suffice to say, he had grown rather attached to her. 

Naturally, when the first thing he saw after stepping out of the groundbridge was her crying, he found it to be _unpleasant._

The  _ first _ time she had spontaneously burst into tears, Starscream had panicked because sentimental emotions were  _ disgusting _ and he was completely unequipped to handle them. 

Now, watching her fall apart after the disastrous retrieval mission, he was panicking because he didn’t want her to be upset. Something about it made his spark ache, and he didn’t care to investigate that feeling so much as to  _ put it back where it came from right this instant, immediately. _

A quick glance at his clone revealed that he was in a similar situation. 

“Are you _injured?_ ” Starscream blurted, not quite knowing how to address this... _Mess._

Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a choked whine. It was a sad little sound, tugging at Starscream’s spark.

She looked up at him, little optics flushed with horrid, oxidized life-fluid. Starscream had compared it to liquid rust, when he first learned of its contents. Elizabeth, for some reason, had found that amusing.

Now, Starscream found he cared less about what her weird, alien frame was doing and more about what it  _ meant .  _

In both their species, crying was a product of extreme distress.

Before he could think, Starscream found himself gently scooping the human into his servos and tucking her close to his chassis, carrying her off to his makeshift hab-suite for a reason he couldn’t quite discern. 

His clone followed hesitantly, as if unsure of what to do with himself. Starscream glanced back at him.

“Go get her blankets,” he murmured. The first time this had happened, the internet had informed him that blankets minimized sadness.

The clone made a face somewhere between dejected and relieved before heading off, but Starscream didn’t dwell on it. 

He had been lodging in what were presumably the captain’s quarters, because he’d decided that he was technically the captain of the  _ Harbinger. _ What was left of this half, anyway. 

The key pad was old, but thankfully still functional- just like the generator that supplied power to the intact parts of the ship. Starscream winced at the creaking of the rusty mechanisms as the door slid open, and made a beeline for his berth. He deposited Elizabeth carefully on its surface, and perched next to her, crossing his legs. 

Elizabeth instinctively scooted over and crawled into his lap, leaking her weird saline solutions all over him as she rested her squishy cheek against his thigh. She sniffled miserably.

“What is the meaning of this?” Starscream asked, then stifled a wince at how terribly that had come out. “That is- why are you upset?” 

“It’s my birthday today,” Elizabeth croaked, staring into space. “I’m nineteen.”

Primus, nineteen of Earth’s stellar cycles was _nothing. _ Less than a quarter of a _vorn. _

“Why does that distress you?” He asked, raising an optical ridge. “Are you anxious about your pitiful lifespan?”

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment, looking utterly exhausted.

...Perhaps that had been less than tactful.  _ Where _ was his clone with the blankets?!

He heard the familiar sound of turbines rushing overhead, fading into the distance with a sonic boom.

Why, that  _ coward! _ Very well, then- Starscream could handle this on his own. He reset his vocalizer, shifting awkwardly.

“I’m certain  _ something _ could be arranged-”

“It’s not that,” Elizabeth interrupted, closing her sad, tiny optics. “I just- I mean... It’s- it’s not important, nevermind.”

Starscream’s optic twitched. 

She’d once spent almost an _hour_ explaining the convoluted plot of some program called ‘Steven Solar-System’ to him (she’d been so excited to talk about it that he hadn’t had the spark to tell her that he neither understood nor cared), but as soon as he actually _needed_ her to share, she shut down.

The  _ priorities  _ of this child.

“ _I’ll_ be the judge of that,” he said. “Obviously, it’s at least somewhat important, or you wouldn’t be in a _state_ over it.” 

Elizabeth flushed with shame.

“No, I mean- really, it’s  _ stupid._” 

Great, he’d made it  worse. Time for a different tactic.

“I don’t think  _ Stefan Galaxy _ would approve of you dismissing your own feelings,” Starscream scolded. “Doesn’t he cry every day, or something? If he saw you behaving like this, he would be beside himself. For _shame!_ ”

Elizabeth blinked, then did some sort of weird, hitched giggle-thing between sobs. Starscream couldn’t tell if the tremors in her body were a product of sadness or mirth. 

He’d either made progress, or confused her poor systems to the point of malfunction. He was beginning to remember why he’d sworn off crying  _ ages _ ago.

“You’re not wrong there,” she said. “Fine, then. Just don’t expect anything profound.”

_ Success! _ Starscream mentally filed away the ‘Steepled Space-Boy’ card for future use. 

Elizabeth mercifully put an arm between her wet, salty face and his leg, leaning on that instead. Starscream refused to let his relief make itself visible.

“I just... Didn’t have anyone to celebrate with, this year,” the girl said quietly. “My whole family either hates me or thinks I’m dead. Or both. All my friends probably do, too. I’m... I’m all alone.”

Oh, dear. Yes, that _would_ cause distress, wouldn’t it?

“You have us,” he felt the need to point out. “Your so-called ‘family’ sounds like a bunch of glitch-heads, anyway.”

Elizabeth looked utterly defeated at that.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “They are. I never thought I could be hurt that badly.”

Starscream understood that sentiment a little too well.

“I always tried to do what they said, you know,” she murmured. “I wanted to please them so badly, I never fought them on anything.” 

Starscream felt a pit beginning to form in his tanks. Elizabeth continued,

“I think I always knew that their love was conditional. I never wanted to confront it, because I didn’t want them to be that bad, but it’s  _ true. _ They loved the  _ idea _ of me, and as soon I broke the mold, i was dead to them.”

Elizabeth’s face contorted into a grimace.

“And- and I think I  _ still  _ love them, because it wasn’t so bad sometimes, and because I think they thought they were doing what was right-”

“Regardless,” Starscream interrupted, “they _hurt_ you. It doesn’t _matter_ what they wanted, because it  _ hurt you, _and they didn’t even have the decency to _care._ ” 

Silence.

“I really,  _really_ didn’t want them to be the bad guys,” Elizabeth said quietly. “I always thought they’d improve, or something. I don’t know.”

Starscream paused, feeling that sink in. Too many times, he’d been dragged kicking and screaming (sometimes _literally_ ) to that same conclusion. He remembered now, why he’d originally taken her in. 

They were too similar for him to be comfortable leaving her to fend for herself, as _he’d_ had to do. 

“They don’t deserve your loyalty,” Starscream said, instinctively stroking her hair with the tip of his digit. “Don’t mourn good qualities that were never present. Don’t cry for people who never really existed.” 

It was an impossible feat, but he couldn’t think of anything better to say.

“I can’t help it,” Elizabeth whispered, voice cracking. “I feel so  _ tricked_ _._ ”

“I know,” Starscream replied, fixing his haunted gaze onto the far wall. “I know.”

...

The clone was not having a wonderful time. First, they‘d lost the fight, then Elizabeth had been crying, _then_ he’d been sent away, and now he couldn’t even succeed in the one task he’d been given.

He stared down at Elizabeth’s table with a growing sense of panic. There were no blankets to be had. Somehow, they’d both forgotten that she slept in a pile of human drapery. 

He was hesitant to touch it, because once he’d picked up a small covering off the floor to return to her, and she had gotten extremely upset. Something about it being ‘under-wear,’ and ‘private.’ 

_ Humans. _

He pursed his lips. 

He wanted to help, but he lacked resources to do so unless he raided another human market.

...Now,  _ there  _ was a thought. If he flew at top speed, he could get there and back within thirty minutes!

It was settled. The clone was going to Mal-wart! Or, War-malt. Wal-malt? War-mart? 

Whatever.

He took off, breaking the sound barrier almost immediately.

...

Agent Fowler respected Optimus Prime. In fact, he was rather in awe of him.

The guy was millions of years old, had some sort of magic _thing_ in his chest that ‘contained the wisdom of the Primes,’ or something, and carried himself with a sort of serene grace that shouldn’t have worked with his gigantic, bulky body. He was a borderline lowercase- g _god._

...Right now, he was absolutely  _ not _ acting like it.

It had taken a couple months, but Fowler had finally managed to corner him so they could talk about his flagrant misconduct with Texas’s beef industry.

“I am afraid I have more pressing matters-”

“Nuh-Uh,” Fowler interrupted, putting his hands on his hips and staring the alien down. “I had Ratchet clear your schedule. We’re gonna _talk_ about this.”

Optimus squirmed in what Fowler presumed was a very un-Primely manner.

“I must meditate, and convene with the Matrix,” he said. Agent Fowler raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“You said that this morning, too. _And_ a couple hours ago. You’ve been ‘convening with the Matrix’ all week!” 

Optimus frowned and glanced to the side, clearly unused to being questioned in matters of Cosmic Holy Primeliness, or whatever his deal was. 

“...The Matrix has much to say,” he replied lamely. Fowler set his jaw.

“It can wait. I’ve had Washington up my ass for  _ weeks  _ about the Cow Incident!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re lucky I managed to convince them not to shoot you on sight!”

Not that their weapons could do much, of course- it was more about the _sentiment,_ in Fowler’s opinion. A big, explosive middle finger. 

Optimus seemed to consider that, then sighed heavily.

“I see,” he said tiredly. “What can I-”

Fowler’s phone rang. He yanked it out of his pocket and pressed the ‘accept call’ button with more force than strictly necessary.

“ _Yes?_ ” He asked through clenched teeth.

‘ _ Bill, your damn robots are acting up again! _ ’ Bryce shouted, causing Fowler to flinch away from the speaker.    
  


Shit.

“All the  _ Autobots _ are accounted for, General Bryce,” he said pointedly, feeling a growing sense of unease. “Is there a Decepticon attack?”

Above him, Prime stiffened.

‘ _The gangly one with wings- y’know, the one that looks like stick-bug? Star-something?_ ’ Oh, no. Not again. Fowler wasn’t strong enough to do it  _ again. _ ‘ _The bastard r_ _obbed a Walmart not five minutes ago. The damages are still being reported, but he took a _ lot  _ of ice cream._’

“I see. I’ll have the ‘bots on it ASAP.”

‘ _They’re all on thin ice, Bill. Fix this now,  or  _ you’re _ going to be the one explaining this to my superiors. This can’t keep happening._’ 

Fowler swallowed.

“Understood, General Bryce,” he said stiffly. The call disconnected. His left eye twitched a bit. “Starscream robbed another Walmart. He’s gone now.”

Optimus made a troubled rumbling noise, and Fowler couldn’t tell if it was coming from his engine or his vocalizer.

“The next time we cross paths with him, we will aim for capture,” he promised. Fowler nodded, struggling to keep his breathing under control.

“Gimme a sec,” he said, walking past the Prime until he was a good distance down the hall.

He took a deep breath, then threw his phone at the concrete wall with as much force as he could. The resulting shattering noise wasn’t satisfying enough.

“ _Son! Of! A!_ _ Bitch!_” He shouted, stomping on its remains. 

He spent a good few seconds grinding what was left of it into the ground with his heel, pretending it was Starscream’s stupid face. He was being juvenile, he knew, but it was this or saying something _stupid_ in front of his superiors in Washington, and he could always pretend he’d dropped it in the toilet.

A glance at Optimus Prime revealed that he was watching him with a worried frown. Fowler cleared his throat and straightened his suit, brushing off imaginary dust.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to go get yelled at.” He narrowed his eyes. “When all this is over, we  _ will  _ talk about the cows. There is nowhere on this planet you can hide from me, and that is a  _ promise._” 

It was with that ominous declaration that he stomped off to the elevator, resisting the urge to throw a middle finger over his shoulder for good measure.

He deserved more vacation days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! 
> 
> I kind of want to apologize for being ‘unprofessional,’ but this a fanfiction and I’m a freshman in college, so I don’t know what my brain is trying to accomplish here. It’s my party and I’ll scream if I want to! 
> 
> Don’t forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed!


	29. UwU Sowwy Fow Committing Cwimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and the clone mean well, truly. Elizabeth is traumatized. Fowler is going to snap for real if this shit keeps up. Megatron is impulsive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!!! Thanks so much for all your comments!!!!!
> 
> This chapter is absolutely not serious because I wrote it all at 12 AM

Elizabeth looked at the massive pile of ice cream cartons, then up the clone, who had dumped them on the berth and was obviously very pleased with himself. 

“...Thank you?” She tried hesitantly. The clone perked up.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” He unsubspaced two bolts of fabric. “These are rather thin, but there was substantially _more_ material per blanket, which makes them superior!”

Elizabeth didn’t have the heart to tell him that that wasn’t how blankets worked. Starscream hummed from behind her. 

“I thought you had abandoned us, but I see that I was too quick to judge.” He paused. “Excellent work.”

The clone beamed, picking up one of the bolts of fabric and very carefully unraveling it.

“Here, hold this,” he said, offering the edge of the cloth to Elizabeth.

The teenager obligingly took it, and found herself being lovingly wrapped in a pink burrito. It quickly became obvious that he was to use the entire thing.

“Uh, guys?” She asked. The clone didn’t pause in his cocoon-building.

“Yes?” He replied pleasantly. Elizabeth squirmed.

“How am I going to eat the ice cream if I can’t use my arms?” 

The clone set the bolt down for a moment.

Both seekers shared a glance, having a sort of wordless conversation. The clone shrugged. Starscream nodded as if he’d made an excellent point. They turned back to her.

“ _I _ will hold it  _ for _ you,” Starscream decided, and the clone dutifully resumed imprisoning Elizabeth in cheap fabric.

Starscream daintily selected a carton off the top of the pile, carefully sliced the top off with the edge of his claw instead of  _ using the lid, _ and held it near her face.

Elizabeth blinked at the strawberry ice cream just _inches_ away from her nose, and glanced up to see the pair watching her expectantly. 

_ Jesus Christ. _

Slowly, hesitantly, Elizabeth leaned forward to take a lick. She grimaced. While the ice cream itself wasn’t bad, she was comsuming it in the  _ worst _ possible manner. Somewhere, an angel was crying.

“Oh! It is Elizabeth’s ‘birthday’ today,” Starscream informed his clone proudly. “It is customary to celebrate with dessert, and all we need now is the _incantation!_ ” 

“I see,” the clone said. “What is it?”

Elizabeth stopped committing Ice Cream Blasphemy for a moment.  _ What _ were they going on about?

“You must state that this is a  happy  birthday over and over again,” Starscream replied, very confident in his fairly inaccurate knowledge.

“Hey, real quick- I can’t eat this without a spoon,” Elizabeth interrupted, hoping to stall whatever crime against birthdays they had in the works.

She received twin blank stares.

“What is a  _ spoon?_” The clone whispered loudly, clearly attempting to be sneaky. Starscream narrowed his optics thoughtfully.

“I have encountered this jargon on the Tumblr- I believe it refers to emotional energy. Elizabeth is currently unable to consume the ‘comfort fuel’ as a result of her distress.”

What. 

“No, wait-”

“Do not fret, Elizabeth,” Starscream interrupted. “ _I_ will fix this for you. Begin the incantation!”

“Hold up, guys-”

They both ignored her, resetting their vocalizers in unison. She realized with a sense of horrified trepidation that the ice cream was slowly drawing nearer. 

Above her, the Starscreams sported twin self-satisfied grins.

“ _ This is a happy birthday. This is a happy birthday. This is a happy birthday. _ ”

“Wait, wait,  _ wait-_”

The half-melted strawberry crap was gently smooshed into Elizabeth’s face, and she recoiled away from the frozen, sticky damnation.

“ _ This is a happy birthday. This is a happy birthday. This is a happy birthday. _ ” 

Elizabeth realized she had discovered the tenth circle of hell, and screamed.

...

Fifteen seconds later, Elizabeth finished struggling free of the burrito prison after having rolled halfway across the berth to freedom, leaving unraveled fabric and smears of ice cream in her wake.

“Nope! No, no, no, no,  _ no!_” She chanted, scrubbing the rest of the sticky mess off her face with the cloth. “That was  _ awful. _ Please,  _ never _ do that again!”

The seekers were perplexed.

“What is the problem?” Starscream asked, looking a little dejected. “Were you having trouble getting it in your mouth?”

Elizabeth squinted incredulously.

“How would  _ you  _ feel if someone, like,  _twenty_ times your size tied you up and mashed your face into a bunch of goop?” She asked shrilly. “Bad. That was  _ bad!_”

The clone pursed his lips sheepishly. Starscream looked at the (now squished) tub of ice cream in horror. 

A sizable pink glop splatted sadly on the floor.

“Oh,” he said. “Oops.”

“Apologies,” the clone muttered, glancing away. Starscream raised an optical ridge at that, then scrunched up his face as if waging an internal battle.

“...What he said,” he finally forced out between clenched teeth (that is, Elizabeth  _ assumed _ those were teeth of some sort.)

Now properly chastised, they both looked somewhat... Droopy. Their wings were tucked back in identical expressions of shame. Elizabeth sighed.

“Look, I appreciate the thought, but,  please. Next time I say ‘wait,’ or ‘hold on,’ listen maybe?” The clone looked at his pedes. Starscream had decided that the ceiling was suddenly very interesting. “ _Please?_ ”

“Sure.”

“Fine.” 

Elizabeth stared them down a moment longer, then nodded.

“Okay, cool. Thank you.”

The three of them stood in awkward silence for a moment.

“This is  _ not _ a happy birthday,” Starscream declared mournfully. 

Elizabeth glanced at the large pile of ice cream cartons to the side.

“I have an idea on how to fix this,” she said. The Starscreams perked up. “I can’t eat all this, and we have nowhere to put it, but we can still have fun!”

“I’m listening,” Starscream said. The clone nodded.

Elizabeth smirked.

...

Fowler took several deep breaths, and re-read the shoddy cardboard sign on top of the pile of melted ice-cream carnage that Starscream had left in the Walmart parking lot.

The  _ wrong  _ Walmart parking lot.

_ ‘Oopsies! _

_ We did a widdwe fucky-wucky! Sowwy fow steawing. OwO;; _

_ P.S.- I’m keeping the fabwic >:3c’ _

He was having a stroke, he could  _ feel _ it coming on. Any minute now, he’d be foaming at the mouth.

What was this? A cultural misunderstanding?  _ Psychological warfare? _

“What,” he muttered, “in the  _ fresh fuck _ is  _ wrong  _ with Starscream?!”

...

Megatron fumed. 

Apparently, Starscream had resumed making a nuisance of himself by harassing the humans again, like the demented little scraplet he was.

Soundwave took the news report off his visor, leaving the tyrant to glare holes into his own reflection.

“Do you _still_ have no knowledge of Knockout’s whereabouts?” Megatron asked calmly.

Soundwave shook his head. The warlord nodded, clenching his jaw. 

“I see.” He glanced around the room, until his gaze settled upon the nearest work console.

The unfortunate drone manning it had no time to react before his head was enveloped in one massive servo and  _ crushed. _

The console itself was next, and Megatron ripped it right out of the wall with a roar, leaving torn cabling and sparking wires in his wake. He hurled it halfway across the bridge, and it came skidding to a stop just shy of Soundwave’s pedes.

The spymaster looked up and tilted his head ever so slightly, as if to say, ‘Was that  _ really  _ necessary?’

Megatron glared at him.

“Shut up,” he grunted, then noticed the rest of the bridge watching him in silent horror. “Get back to work- and someone,  _ clean this mess up!_”

It took five seconds too long for the blasted fools to fully resume their activities. With final sneer, Megatron stalked off to find something else to destroy.

Soundwave helpfully pinged him the location of the training room. Smug, Pit-bound fragger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case y’all forgot, this fic is absolutely ridiculous. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Don’t forget to leave a comment or judos if you enjoyed!!!!! :)


	30. I Don't Get It :(

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back at the Autobot base...
> 
> Warning: Mature implications. It's Knockout, that's basically his MO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry I disappeared again, sometimes I get stuck on something and I don't know what to do from there to get it to where I want it to go. 
> 
> Also, I realized that the episodes were in the wrong order (Cylas comes AFTER the red energon incident), so I've been internally screaming whilst staring into the all-consuming void because fanfic is Serious Business™️. I suppose it doesn't matter much, given that canon has been fairly thoroughly gutted at this point.
> 
> Anyway, here's more crack!

Knockout onlined his optics, having awakened from the first uninterrupted cycle of recharge since he came aboard the  Nemesis , and took a moment to let it all soak in.

No patients.

No responsibilities.

No Megatron or Soundwave. 

He was  _ free. _

The medic felt a manic grin begin to creep its way across his face, and an airy laugh bubbled up from his vocalizer.

“Oh, the  irony,” he giggled, “I’m in a  _ cell!_”

He stiffened.

Ah, yes- the cell. In his elation, he’d forgotten about the fact that he was a prisoner.

His grin took on a panicked edge.

Oh, dear- he’d gotten his aft captured, heavily implied that he wanted to defect, and willingly signed himself up for a lifetime behind bars.

He’d just  flushed his entire life down the toilet.

Knockout laughed again at a higher pitch, staring up at the dusty concrete ceiling. It tapered off into a sort of quiet siren wail, which crescendoed until he was just plain screaming his head off, waking the entire base.

...

Five minutes later, the (former) Decepticon CMO found himself facing down five judgemental blue glares. Unwilling to deal with the situation, Knockout decided to mentally disconnect himself from his surroundings. 

He’d always found their optic color of choice to be rather self-righteous. Prime on their side or not, he was pretty sure Primus was equally angry with  _ all _ of them for fragging up their planet. Running around acting like their dead god had hand-picked  them to be the ‘Ultra-Super-Special Guardians Of All Things Good And Right And Pure’ had gotten old the minute it had started.

Besides, there was so much  clashing! He missed the days when optic color had more variance (and  _ style_)- what happened to good old fashioned  _ green? _ It was such  _ nice _ color on the right mecha, and he never saw it anywhere anymore! 

...He would admit, privately, to a certain sense of bitterness towards the Decepticons for adopting  _ his  _ optic-color en masse. It was far less  distinct,  now! Few of them were  _ natural _ reds, and they frankly couldn’t pull it off.

The Autobots were worse about it, though- hands down.

_ ‘Oo~, look at me! I’m an Autobot and my hideousness belies my absolute moral superiority! Ethics are real and definitely not a thing I just made up to seem cool! Wowee!’ _

“Knockout?” Optimus asked, narrowing his optics in concern. “Are you well?”

Knockout realized that he’d been staring into space for a good fifteen seconds, and blinked.

“My bad,” he said flatly. “Thought I saw a scraplet.”

Team Prime, collectively, seemed to become just the  _ slightest  _ bit more torqued at him.

“You’re _weird,_ ” said the rookie, doorwings drooping sleepily. “I bet you just did that to wake us all up!”

Knockout bristled. If he’d been trying to annoy anyone, he would have been more  _ sophisticated _ about it! (He’d had  vorns of practice, after all.)

“And who are  _ you, _ again?” He asked, using the most insulting, condescending tone he could manage without outright sneering. 

The young Autobot’s plating fluffed up like an offended bird, but the Prime rested a giant, placating servo on his shoulder before he could snipe back. Knockout flashed him a smug little smirk.

Optimus pinned him with a stern glare, and the medic shrank back a bit on instinct. 

"Regardless of your intent, I believe it is time for _questioning,_ " he said, somehow managing to make it feel more ominous than it already was.

The glaring began to feel much more palpable, as if there was a real weight behind it. 

He could see it now: they'd tie him to a slab and stare him down, all while practically suffocating him with their fields to build tension. It would be awkward and uncomfortable, but with a strange undercurrent none of them could _quite_ put a name on. 

Finally, the Prime would get fed up with waiting, and he would approach at a slow, measured pace that let Knockout know he was completely in control here, until they were practically flush. He would loom over him at just the _perfect_ angle to block out the light source, grab him gently but firmly about the neck, and lean in close to his audial.

' _If you do not cooperate, we will be forced to take..._ Disciplinary  _measures to get you to behave,_ ' he would say in that great, rumbling baritone, and Knockout would be able to  _ feel  _ it in his struts while his processor pinged him to release-

"Hey!  Yoo-hoo?" The obnoxious rookie interrupted his increasingly out-of-control daydream, snapping him back to reality. 

The Autobot waved a servo in his face, causing Knockout to blink. The others were beginning to look  _very_ impatient.

"Is your processor fried, or something?" He snapped. "Come  _ on, _ already!"

"Right," Knockout squeaked, a little higher than he'd intended. He cleared his vocalizer, trying to shake off his awkwardness. "Lead the way." 

...

Miko was so  _ bored! _

All the bots were still off interrogating Doc Knock, and Jack and Raf were both studying like a couple of boring  _ nerds.  _ Ratchet was messing with something in the corner, and had told them all that he was 'not to be bothered under any curcumstances.'

_ Bleh. _

" _ Ugh, _ " the girl groaned into the couch, drawing it out until she sounded more like a cave bear than a person. She was flopped dramatically on her side, forcing the boys to squish together at the other end.

Jack was completely unsympathetic.

"If you're so bored, maybe you should  _ study,_" Jack said, sounding just like her mom.

Her mom, who she'd left in Japan for a  _ reason._ Miko wrinkled her nose.

"Ew," she grunted, curling her lip. "Whatever. I'll just get on Tumblr." 

Nobody replied to that. She sat up, pulled her laptop out of her backpack, and decided to go see what 'Screamer was up to. A much as she hated him, he was definitely _never_ boring. The others should have been following his example.

She opened his blog.

'OwO

Wow, mastew, you'we _so_ impwessive! :3

Youw tempew tantwums awe vewy awe-inspiwing, how can I _possibwy_ not wespect you??? Youw stwategic pwanning skiwws awe unpawawwewed, and I feew secuwe knowing my futuwe is in youw cwutches!'

Miko blinked very slowly, and re-read it. 

'I have been informed that this way of speaking is mockery of the highest order,' the tags said. 'My former employer is an idiot and I hate him.'

Miko's face was screwed up in an attempt to suprress her laughter, and her shoulders shook soundlessly. A single, high-pitced squeak escaped her throat, drawing the attention of her couch-mates.

"What?" Jack asked. 

Miko hunched in on herself and started falling onto her side. She pushed her laptop at him, and made more weird squeak-laughs as his face fell into a disgusted grimace. Raf peered over his shoulder.

"I don't get it," he said. 

Miko was gasping for air at this point, slapping the cushion weakly as Jack's grimace became more pronounced.

"Wow," he said. "I didn't realize you could have  _ negative respect _ for a person."

"Read the  _ tags!_" Miko cackled, clutching her stomach. Jack's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "I would pay  _ real money _ to watch someone talk to Megatron like that!" 

Ratchet perked up at the mention of the warlord.

"What are you three _doing?_ " He asked. 

"Getting traumatized," Jack replied flatly. 

Miko howled with laughter, clumsily wiping her eyes. Ratchet's expression soured.

"I thought we told you to _stay away_ from Starscream's blog," he groused, making his way to the console. "What is it  _ this _ time?"

Starscream, it seemed, had made a new post in-between Miko's visit and Ratchet's.

'Fweedom is the wight of aww sentient beings owo,' it said.

Miko was beside herself. Jack's nose was wrinkled, but his shoulders were trembling ever do slightly.

"Guys, what does it  _ mean?_" Raf asked agitatedly. "I don't get it!"

Ratchet stared at the page a long moment before closing it.

"I don't even want to _know,_ " he muttered, returning to his work.

Jack buried his face in his hands, shaking in silent mirth, and Miko's face was starting to look like a beet.

" _ Guys! _ " Raf whined. 

Jack patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I named this fic, I was originally thinking that Starscream was going to be a bad influence on tumblr and the humans, but it seems the corruption is working in reverse. I am a clown and a fool. 
> 
> Knockout is honestly a bit of a space case, and I feel like he kind of cuts himself off from reality in stressful situations to take the edge off his anxiety. I love him.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Don't forgt to keave comments or kudos!


	31. 'Cons In Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knockout is kind of a useless prisoner. The clone is still a mess. Agent Fowler gets a lucky break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all!!! Thanks so much for all your awesome comments, they mean the world to me!
> 
> I've figured out which direction to take this fic in from here, so yay me!!!

The Autobots stared at Knockout. Knockout stared at the Autobots. 

He was cuffed on a bench of some sort, in lieu of actual, _real_ chairs, because Primus's rabble of Selected Holy Martyrs were essentially squatting in an old human shed by the grace of the local government. He was reminded of human 'dollhouses,' and wondered how in the Pit Megatron could ever  _ lose _ to these people.

"So, what is it you want to know?" He asked sardonically. "I'm an unlocked datapad." 

Optimus Prime stepped forward, unintentionally looming. 

The effect was mitigated somewhat by his comically neutral expression, but Knockout hadn't forgotten the time he'd ripped off his door. It was bizarre to think that  _ that  _ was what was under that mysterious battlemask of his. In his short time as an amnesiac aboard the Nemesis, Knockout remembered him being much more expressive.

"Are you aware of any of Megatron's plans?" The Prime asked. Knockout blinked.

"Well, that's rather vague," he said. "He's got a  _ lot _ of plans, you're going to have to be more specific."

Optimus frowned, but Knockout get the impression that he was being more sheepish than frustrated with him. The Prime thought for a moment.

"...Are there any actions he is planning to take in the _near future?_ " He asked. Knockout's optical ridges furrowed. 

"Well, he wants to kill you all and raze this planet," he replied. "I thought you _knew_ that...?" 

Optimus pressed his lips into an even thinner line than they were already in.

"And  _ how  _ does he plan to go about that?" The Prime asked. 

"Well,  _ finding _ you," Knockout said. "And then- and he's planned this out in  _ detail, _ by the way, he never shuts up about it- he wants to 'engage in glorious combat' or something, and 'defeat you in battle,' and 'slay your allies in front of you before granting you the mercy of death,' and yadda yadda yadda... That's about when I start zoning out." 

Now,  the Prime was beginning to look frustrated.

"Does he have any strategies in place on  _ how he plans to find us?_" He asked, tone taking a slightly harder edge. 

Knockout shrugged.

"Honestly, it changes depending on his mood. He doesn't really have a concrete  plan  so much as he's hoping you'll show up to fight over relics or something." He blinked at the disbelieving stares he was receiving from his captors. "What, did you think he _has it together?_ "  


His tone became bitter. 

"He just stands around and foists all the hard work on  _ someone else_ _,_ and if it's not _exactly_ the way he wants it he throws a  tantrum. If you actually  _ succeed,  _ he'll take all the credit." He sneered. "Sometimes, he'll collaborate with someone or investigate something, but pretty much  _ all _ he ever does for us is fight you occasionally. He can just do  _ whatever _ he wants, and the rest of us don't even get to take  _ breaks!_"

The Autobots appeared a bit taken absck by his sudden display of frustration. Knockout took that as an invitation to continue his ranting.

"I just- Does he not realize that loyalty is a  _two-way street?_ He's always going on and on about how we need to 'prove ourselves,' but he's never done anything that shows that he _deserves_ all our hard work in the first place!" He looked at his bound servos, trying not to think about Breakdown. His voice grew quieter. "There's no _reciprocity._ He expects you to give him everything, but the moment you need him to be an _actual_ _ leader,  _ he leaves you for scrap. He's just- he's  _ not good at his job!_"

Optimus regarded him, looking somewhat sympathetic. Arcee came up beside the Prime, and nudged him to the side a bit.

"Do you know where any mines are located?" She asked, changing the subject. 

Knockout screwed up his face.

"Kind of?" He replied, slightly embarrassed. "I don't have any coordinates _memorized,_ but I know the general locations of most of them. Do you have a map, or something?" 

Arcee took a deep in-vent, and blinked slowly. Knockout could tell she was internally screaming.

"I'll see what I can find," she said.

...

The clone pretended to be occupied with a datapad, trying not to betray any sign of his own agitation.

After what had come to be referred to as the 'Birthday Incident,' Elizabeth and Starscream had become somewhat attached at the hip.

He carried her almost _everywhere,_ whether she was cupped in his servos or perched on his shoulder. They seemed to be clinging to each other desperately, and the clone was certain it had to do with whatever conversation they'd had while he was out gathering supplies.

It had been three days, and it was getting _old._

He wasn't  _ jealous,  _ of course- it would simply have been nice to be able to spend time with someone instead of being an unwelcome third party in his own base. _Again._

Okay, so perhaps he _was_ the  slightest  bit envious... But that was, as Elizabeth would put it, a 'Certified, Grade-A Starscream Trait,' so he wasn't uncomfortable admitting it. 

To himself.

Honestly, just- every single time he started to feel as if he belonged, something like this would happen and he'd get his aft shut out of whatever development Starscream was getting to undergo.

It was subtle, but he knew himself better than anything- and something in his creator was shifting. _Changing._

And here he was, exactly the same as when he'd popped out of that capsule.

Some hidden part of him wondered if that's all he was ever meant to be: a snapshot of his creator in one particular moment. A footnote in _Starscream's_ story (which used to be his own, but now he wasn't really Starscream anymore and he feltless and less connected by the day). 

Logically, it was an absurd notion, given that he'd come out different (wrong)... But he wasn't Shockwave, and this wasn't about logic. 

This was about  _ panic.  _

The pair was chatting in the corner now. Starscream was sitting on a bench, teaching datapad controls to Elizabeth, who was curled up in his lap like some sort of- of  _ pet. _

He furiously dismissed the comparison as soon as it entered his processor. It wasn't _fair,_ and for some reason that mattered to him. 

Even when  he  wasn't getting a fair share of her time. Or Starscream's. Or _anything,_ really.

His servos shook, and he accidentally cracked the screen of his datapad with the force of his grip. 

He needed to be somewhere else.  _ Anywhere _ else. 

"I'm going to go scout," he blurted, abruptly setting his datapad down. 

Starscream and Elizabeth looked up at him curiously.

"Alright," Starscream said. "Come back by the end of this solar cycle."

"-And be safe!" Elizabeth added. 

The clone felt an odd twist of guilt curling in the pit of his tanks for being so bitter. 

"Sure," he replied weakly.

He left as swiftly as he could without drawing too much attention to his mood.

...

Fowler was _pissed._

To put it lightly, Washington was not being kind to him, and he was about ready to just drop everything and escape to the countryside to live as a hermit forever.  _ Anything _ was better than putting up with a bunch of whiny, ungrateful-

His new phone buzzed in his pocket. General Bryce. 

"Speak of the devil," he muttered, accepting the call. "Hello?"

_ 'I've got some good news, and some bad news, Bill,' _ the man said.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

"What's the bad news?" He asked.

_ 'A UFO was spotted flying over Colorado Springs at almost twice the top speed of our fastest jets,'  _ Bryce said.  _ 'I'm almost certain it's one of your 'Decepticons.''  _

One of these days, Fowler was stealing that indestructable armor and shoving his fist _all_ the way up Megatron's giant silver ass. Why? Why Earth? Why couldn't he have chosen  _ Mars?  _

_ 'The  _ good _ news is that we have a location. I'll send you the estimated coordinates. Tell your robots to go neutralize him, ASAP.' _

Well, then. The future was beginning to look a little less bleak.

"Right away, General Bryce," Agent Fowler replied.

The call ended, and he dialed up Optimus.

_ 'How can I help you, Agent Fowler?' _

"Prime," he said, "Unless you have another guy on-planet that can fly faster than mach 6, we've found Starscream."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might just be projecting, but Knockout seems like the kind of guy to navigate using landmarks rather street names. He knows where on the map these mines are, but not their 'formal locations.'
> 
> Also, take everything KO says with a grain of salt. He's speaking from a place of frustration, so he's something of an unreliable narrator. Megatron sucks, but he's not as useless as he's being made out to be.
> 
> The clone is still here, and he's still having issues. I'm not letting his arc off the hook so easily.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Don't forget to comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed!!! :)


	32. Roomies!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clone catches Sad Bitch Disease (depression). Knockout is nosy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I didn't intend to wait another week, it just worked out that way. Online school is a bitch, and they should either organize it properly or pass us all for this semester.
> 
> Have more of the Horrible Robots!

The clone flew in a straight line for about thirty minutes before landing in a random forest location, at the bottom of a cliff.

He was coming to like forests. The weird, prickly organic growths masked his presence well.

Heaving a long sigh, he sat down, leaning against the rough wall of the cliff. He ignored the way it dug into his back.

The clone wasn't sure how long he sat there, staring into space. He had nothing to do, but he didn't want to go back. He didn't really want to stay out, either.

He didn't know _what_ he wanted, except for a break. From what, he was unsure. He could feel himself becoming more and more drained as he slumped against the cliff, staring into space. 

His exhaustion didn't make sense, given that his tanks were at 47% capacity. He had more than enough to get himself back to base at top speed, and yet he was becoming completely despondent from just sitting. 

_ Starscream _ wouldn't mope in a forest, probably. He'd explode, or bury himself in his work- something less pathetic than whatever the _clone_ was doing.

_ Frag Starscream, _ the clone decided. He didn't have the energy to care anymore. He just wanted to sit and wallow.

In the distance, he heard voices and pedesteps, and felt a heavy sense of dread. Whoever _that_ was probably meant he'd have to get up and _do_ something. 

He still didn't move. They'd probably pass him over, anyway. 

He kept telling himself that, even as a measured, heavy plod drew ever closer to him. Even as the stupid fragging  _Prime_ stepped into the clearing, blasters out but pointed at the ground. 

"Starscream." It was both a greeting and an accusation. 

"Frag off," the clone muttered. 

"What are you doing here?" The Prime asked. A new wave of utter exhaustion crashed over him, and he slumped further.

"Doesn't matter. Go away."

Optimus watched him a moment, before putting away his blasters.

"Are you unwell?" He asked.

The clone's lip curled in disgust, and made a show of rolling his optics.

"I'm  _ fine,  _ you idiot," he sneered. "Run along with your merry bunch of clowns and leave me be." 

The Prime's gaze hardened at the insult, and he produced a pair of stasis cuffs from his subspace.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that," he said. "Surrender."

The clone knew by now that the Prime wouldn't hurt him unless absolutely necessary. He jutted out his chin. 

"Get fragged," he said dispassionately, rolling his head back to rest against the cliff. "You and your stupid slagging 'holier-than-thou' scrap, I swear upon the Unmaker..."

Optimus stepped forward. The clone did nothing. Even as he was being cuffed, he just sat there, looking supremely annoyed with the universe.

He supposed it would be less of a pain than dealing with the ridiculous _love-fest_ back at the ship. _Ugh._

Optimus pulled him to his pedes, and stared at him expectantly.

"Walk," he commanded. The clone looked at him like he was stupid.

"If you want me so bad, you can fragging  _ carry _ me," he said, just to be difficult.

To his surprise, the Prime hoisted him over his shoulder without further complaint. He was almost disappointed- being nasty and rude was doing a great job of rejuvenating his energy levels. He wanted to get angrier, just to  _feel_ something.

As they walked, he felt himself slipping back into his earlier apathy.

The Prime regrouped with the green Wrecker, and the clone watched him boredly. The Autobot shot him a quizzical look.

"You're awful quiet," he said. The clone scoffed, but said nothing.

_ Stupid Autobots. _

...

"This place is a _dump,_ " the clone sneered as he was hauled into the Autobot base. "It's practically the size of a shed.  _ This  _ is what the great _Optimus Prime_ has been reduced to?  Pathetic. "

He ignored the stares of the disgusting trio of  vermin  and their ridiculous Autobot masters. Everything around him served to irritate him just a _little_ bit further.

Optimus deposited him on the medical berth more roughly than he felt was strictly necessary, and the clone felt another surge of anger that probably shouldn't have been so welcome.

"Ratchet, can you check him for injury?" The Prime asked. The medic nodded, scanning him with something that looked like it was held together with low-quality adhesive and prayers.

"He's fine," Ratchet reported. "Why are you concerned?"

"He seems tired," the Prime replied.

"He's also  _ right here, _ and hates you," the clone snapped. 

He was ignored, and hauled to his pedes once again. Optimus grabbed the cuffs and tugged, and the clone let himself topple forward and be dragged a short ways instead of walking. His pedes  screeched  against the concrete.

  
  


Everyone flinched at the sharp noise.

The Prime looked back at him, thoroughly unimpressed. The clone met his stare evenly, completely unashamed.

"Really?" The two-wheeler asked from across the room. The clone made a rude gesture at her with one of his cuffed servos, and she scoffed. "Fine, whatever."

Optimus continued, dragging the clone's limp form the whole way to the cell. 

"We will question you in the morning," he said, pulling him to the center of the room and dropping the cuffs.

The clone let himself fall flat on his face, relaxing a bit as he heard the door _swish_ shut. 

_ Finally,  _ some peace and quiet.

"You too, huh?" Said one of the  _ last  _ voices he wanted to hear. The clone pushed himself up, gawking incredulously at Knockout, who was perched on the edge of the berth.

"Are you fragging  _ kidding me?! _ " He screeched.

...

Knockout had gone willingly with the Autobots because he'd wanted to  _ avoid  _ other Decepticons and, whether he was still officially affiliated with the faction or not, Starscream qualified.

Of _course_ the stupid do-gooders had to stick him in _Knockout's_ nice, quiet cell. Didn't they have any others?

Starscream seemed to share that sentiment. His optics, dull and tired, betrayed his utter exhaustion.

The seconds ticked by as they stared each other down from opposite ends of the cell. It was profoundly uncomfortable. 

Knockout reset his vocalizer.

"Do you think this is the only cell they have?" He asked. Starscream made a show of rolling his optics.

"It's either that, or they're hoping _you'll_ do their dirty work  _ for _ them," he snapped. "At least you're still cuffed."

Knockout laughed awkwardly.

"Is this about that time I tried to kill you?" He asked. Starscream gave him a flat look. "Bygones, amiright?"

The seeker sneered.

" _I'm _ not the one you almost  _ murdered, _ " he said coldly, as if he wasn't  also occasionally frighteningly homicidal. "In fact, I put you out of commission."

Knockout was both angered and intrigued by that revelation, and he studied Starscream curiously.

"So  _ you  _ whacked me upside the head," he said, careful to keep the resentment out of his tone. "Protective, are we?"

Starscream stiffened at the probe, shooting the medic a poisonous glare. 

"Is it so strange that I don't want to watch myself get  _ killed?_" He pushed himself into a hunched sitting position, and directed his gaze to the floor. "We look out for each other."

Oo, did he smell  _ insecurity? _ How fascinating!

"Do you?" Knockout asked mildly, and gestured around at the cell. " _He _ sure did a good job of keeping  _ you _ safe." 

Starscream stiffened at the implication.

"I was  _ alone _ at the time, thank you very much," he snapped. "And, for the record, I  _ let  _ them capture me!" 

His optics widened at that last confession, and Knockout sank his claws into the juicy new piece of drama with a smirk.

"Now, why would you go and do a thing like that?" He asked. Starscream hunched in on himself a little further.  _ Jackpot. _ "Talk to me." _ Tell the doctor where it hurts. _

Surprisingly, Starscream's first impulse seemed to be wanting to share, based on the way he clenched his jaw and pursed his lips. Knockout got to thinking about that.

Starscream as _he_ knew him never shared any of his feelings with _anyone,_ despite the fact that he was terrible at hiding them. It was always snapping and snarling and 'biting the hand that fed him,' as the humans put it. In fact, the Starscream in his cell was just little too tired, a little too defeated. He  _ wasn't quite right. _

Knockout's smirk widened.

"You're one of those clones he made, aren't you?" Despite how it was phrased, it wasn't a question. 

Starscream- or,  not-Starscream , that was- froze, and his sick look of dread (and was that  _ more  _ insecurity? Oh, this was  _ golden_) was all the confirmation Knockout needed.

"What- what makes you think-”

"Call it intuition. I have a knack for noticing the  _ little details,_" he replied. The clone's wings drooped again from their defensive flair. "Trouble in paradise, hm?"

"Shut up. You don't know anything."

"You're not helping your case there,  _ not-Starscream._"

The clone's wings hiked up in a rage, and he scrambled to his pedes. 

"Prime!" He shouted, kicking the door. "Prime, I want a new cell!" Another kick. " _ Prime! _ "

"Stop it, you're flattering me," Knockout said sardonically. The clone rounded on him.

"Shut up!" He screeched. "Just-  _ shut! Up!_"

Knockout raised his cuffed servos placatingly.

"Easy," he said, "I just want to talk. Call me  _ curious._"

"This is why I never liked you," the clone hissed. "Always getting under my plating, into things that are  _ none of your business!_" 

"See, now I'm even  _ more  _ curious." The medic said teasingly. "Did you get in a fight?"

The clone's face scrunched up in confusion. His wings dipped.

"Wait, what?" He asked. Knockout hummed and tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Mm, I see." He muttered. "Are you embarrassed? Ashamed of something?" The clone spluttered.

"What are you  _ talking _ about, you lunatic?!" He squawked. Knockout shot him a look of exasperation.

"I'm trying to figure out what went _so wrong_ that you surrendered yourself to the Autobots," he said. "Do you dislike him? Does  _ he _ dislike  _ you? _ Do share, it gets awfully _boring_ in here."

The clone's wings hiked up defensively.

"That's  _ none of your business!_" He snapped.

"Oh,  _ come on,_" Knockout goaded. "We're  _ roomies _ now! Roomies don't keep things from each other!" 

The clone paused, looking his cellmate up and down.

"Is that so?" He smirked. Knockout got the sinking feeling that he'd made a mistake. "Alright, then. _You_ go first."

The medic eyed him warily, unconsciously shrinking in on himself a tad. 

"Well, I mean- there's really not much to say," he lied. There was  _ so _ much to say, and it was threatening to boil over again and manifest as another split-second bad decision. "Life's been... Fine."

The clone was about as convinced as Knockout himself would have been in the face of such terrible lying. The medic tried not to cringe.

"Uh-huh," the clone replied smugly. "That's what I thought. Unless you plan to _reciprocate,_ stop your pestering and let me be."

Knockout shot him an annoyed glare, but found that he really couldn't argue with that.

"Fine," he muttered.

The clone nodded once, then carefully arranged himself back in his face-down position on the floor. He didn't move. It was getting creepy.

Knockout decided to stare at the ceiling instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the start of something ridiculous. Watch them rub their maladaptive coping mechanisms all over each other.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Don't forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed!! :)


	33. Mozartron WHO?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and Elizabeth are concerned. The clone and Knockout get to know each other better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaa thank you all so much for your comments!!! They really motivate me to write! :)
> 
> Here's another!

They had been unconcerned through the afternoon. 

When evening came, they took turns glancing expectatly at the door for a couple hours as they went about their tasks.

It was only when the sun had fully set that they began to truly worry. 

"Hey," Elizabeth said from her perch on the table after a long period of silence, "do you think you can get ahold of him?"

"I have attemmpted to contact him seventeen times," Starscream replied distantly, digit absently stroking her hair as he stared at the door. "No luck."

Elizabeth ducked out from under Starscream's servo, ruffling her hair back into place with a quizzical noise. 

"He's not getting hurt, is he?" She asked. Starscream slowly shook his head. "Is he alright?" A nod.

Elizabeth studied him for a moment.

"...Are  _ you _ alright?" She asked. Starscream snapped out of his reverie.

"Oh! Yes, yes," he assured, then paused. "Merely... Thinking."

"About what?"

Starscream tilted his head, wings flitting back and forth as he pondered.

"Well, if he's disappeared, and I can't feel anything bad happening to him... He may have left us. And to leave us, he'd have to have somewhere to stay. Neither faction will let him in if he has nothing to offer. Which means..."

Starscream stiffened in a panic.

"Our location could be compromised. We have to leave  _ right now."_

He made to head for the storage room in a panic, but Elizabeth grabbed his digit.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" She said. "Hold up- think about this a minute. Do you  really  think he'd betray us?" 

Starscream delicately pulled his servo from her hold with an annoyed frown.

"I  _ have  _ been thinking about this!" He exclaimed. "As unlikely as it may seem, I can't think of any other explanation! Let's _go!_ " 

"Don't jump to conclusions, here," Elizabeth said, cocking an eyebrow. "Put yourself in his shoes."

Starscream blinked.

"What do you _mean?_ " He asked. "We don't have  time for this-" 

"I  _ mean _that you should try to think about what he's feeling! See things from his perspective. I highly,  _highly_ doubt that he'd fuck us over like that after everything we've been through."

Starscream rolled his optics. 

"Very well, then, if you're so insistent- but  _ only  _ once we get to a safe location!"

Without any further discussion, he scooped her into his cockpit and flew off.

...

Starscream landed a few miles away and sat in alt-mode.

"You're being ridiculous," Elizabeth said. 

"Better safe than sorry," the seeker replied. "Now, what was so important that you were wanting to potentially _compromise our safety?_ "

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't betray us. I think you're being paranoid again," she said impatiently. "Is that something  _ you _ would do under any circumstances?"

Worryingly, Starscream had to think about that for a moment.

"...Hm, no. I suppose I wouldn't."

Elizabeth clenched her jaw.

"Your hesitation is  _ very _ reassuring," she snapped. "Really feeling the love, here."

Starscream's vents puffed a bit, and his biolights brightened.

"Well,  _ excuse me. _ It's been awhile since I actually  _ cared  _ about someone!" 

_ Cared. _

Elizabeth grinned so widely that her face began to hurt. 

"Alright," she chirped. "I care about you, too."

Starscream's alt form seemed to tense up around her, plating shifting minutely as if to fidget.

"Great," he said curtly. "You were saying?" Elizabeth shook her head to dispel her distracting thoughts.

"Oh, right! Anyway, if  you  wouldn't do it, why would he?"

Starscream vocalized a long sigh.

"He and I don't... Do the same things in stressful situations," he admitted. "He's reckless, more impulsive than I am. It's almost like he's- well."

"What?" Elizabeth asked. Starscream was silent for a moment.

"Younger- no... Less  _ mature,_" he decided. Elizabeth snorted.

"Well, he literally  is younger than you," she said. "Bodily, that is."

"Yes," Starscream replied, "but he has  _ five million years' _ worth of memories. With all that experience in his processor, I don't understand why he doesn't  use  it!" 

"Stop, stop, stop-  _ five million years?!_" Elizabeth exclaimed. "For real? Dude, you are _crazy_ old! No wonder he's been acting weird- that's a  _ ton _ of information to process!"

There a was a beat of silence.

"...Slag," Starscream swore quietly. "You're right. His unconscious protocols must be overclocking themselves trying to sort it all out!"

Suddenly, he shifted into root mode. Elizabeth yelped, and found herself cupped in Starscream's giant hands. She gripped his thumb instinctively. 

"I actually remember reading about a similar phenomenon at the academy!" The seeker continued, beginning to pace as if nothing had happened. "It occurs quite frequently in mecha whose sparks have been re-housed in a completely different frame- there's a period of emotional instability as their new processor sorts through all the information brought in by their spark!"

Elizabeth was practically hugging his thumb at this point.

"Great!" She squeaked. "Can you maybe sit down-?"

"And the spark in turn has to adapt to the different quirks- or lack thereof- in the new processor! It frequently results in identity crisis, anxiety, depression, and occasionally dysmorphia. Not to mention the temporarily impaired judgement due to the fact that their processor is exhausting itself to slog through all the thoughts and memories that have been dumped into it!" Starscream babbled, picking up the pace. "The older the mech, the more severe it becomes. His spark is a perfect copy of my own- this explains  _ everything!_" 

"For the love of god, you're  _ jostling _ me!" Elizabeth snapped, kicking the seeker's nearest finger. "Sit down!"

Starscream froze, and glanced down at her sheepishly. He carefully took a seat on the ground and held her aloft, resetting his vocalizer.

"Right, well- anyway, that only further supports my suspicions that he's done something foolish," he said. His optics dimmed, and his expression grew solemn. "Now that I think about it, it is highly plausible that he resents me for making him at all. I know  _ I _ would."

Elizabeth could see the faint silhouettes of Starscream's wings droop, illuminated by his biolights and the meager crescent moon above them.

"Hey," she said softly. He re-focused his attention on her. "I don't think he went all Frankenstein on you. I know you guys bicker a lot, but you should have _seen_ him when you were hurt- he would sit there and, like,  _ pet  _ you or something for  _ hours_ _,_ and he'd stare at you with this weird look on his face."

Starscream raised his eyebrows (reminding Elizabeth that he had no eyelids in the process- a fact which she pushed to the back of her mind to avoid being weirded out). 

"Oh," he said quietly. Elizabeth nodded.

"Yeah," she replied. "It was a little creepy, but kind of sweet. Besides, don't you guys  _ hate _ Megatron?" 

Starscream scoffed.

"If he went to  _ Megatron, _ there's no possible way he'd come out unscathed- even if he was allowed back into the Decepticons," he said. "No, I suspect he's gone to the Autobots. If he'd been taken captive, there would have been a fight." 

"Maybe for  you, but _he's_ unpredictable right now," Elizabeth pointed out. "He might have gotten scared and surrendered."

Starscream rolled his optics with a scoff.

"He's _always_ itching for a fight, I  highly doubt that's the case." He didn't sound entirely convinced, however. "You just don't want to think badly of him."

Elizabeth shrugged.

"Maybe." She shivered as a breeze blew past. "It's cold out- let's go back home and just wait and see. He might just be late."

Starscream studied her a moment, before relenting with a sigh.

"Very well," he muttered. "Don't blame  _ me _ if we get ambushed, though."

Elizabeth smiled at him.

"Thanks," she said. "Let's just hope he's not  actually a captive somewhere- that sounds like it'd be _horrible!_ " 

Starscream nodded with a grimace.

"Unenviable indeed," he agreed. 

...

The clone was sprawled out on the floor, glaring at the ceiling. It had been four very silent hours since either he or Knockout had said anything at all.

At first, it had been welcome, but now he was beginning to get a little twitchy.

"This is  boring, " he declared, shaking one of his pedes back and forth.

Knockout hummed and continued picking at his claws. 

"Who do those Auto-glitches think they are, just leaving us in here with nothing to do?!" He continued, sitting up. "The  nerve! "

"As opposed to...?" Knockout asked sarcastically, still not looking up. 

The clone glared at him. 

"Shut up, you!" He snapped. "Don't tell me you aren't bored, too!"

Knockout picked some dirt out of one of his servo-joints and flicked it to the side. 

"Funny you should ask," he said. "You see, I have this fun little component called a  _ processor,  _ and when I'm bored I like to do such _novel_ things as  _ think-_"

"Thinking is what  got me here in the first place!" The clone interrupted.

"Then you  _ clearly _ need the practice," Knockout replied smoothly. "Go on, give it a shot- try not to strain your circuits, though. I'm fairly certain the Autobots don't have the resources to fix  _ that._" 

The clone fumed. 

"Perhaps  _ you  _ couldn't, but the  Autobot  medic actually  finished _his_ schooling," he remarked nastily. 

Finally, Knockout's gaze snapped to him.

"I was  _ almost done!_" He shouted, plating clamping down defensively. 

"Were you?" The clone asked mildly. 

"I was  _ this close,_" Knockout made a pinching motion with his servo to demonstrate, optics twitching, "and guess who  _got the_ _fragging academy shut down_ because he decided to _collapse the government?!_ "

"It was a rotten government," the clone replied drily. "You're _welcome._ " 

Knockout squinted incredulously at him.

"Oh, yeah, because Megatron the Unholy Acolyte of Destruction  _ so  _ much better!" He crossed his arms with a disgusted curl of his lip. "You could probably find his picture right next to the word _'hypocrisy'_ in the dictionary."

The clone rolled his optics with a scowl. 

"Ugh, don't even get me  _ started  _ on that sentient hunk of scrap!" He said. "If he were on fire, I'd fan the flames!" 

"Fire isn't satisfying enough- I'd go with slow-acting  _ poison,_" Knockout drawled, and his mouth curled into a twisted little smirk. "Wouldn't it be satisfying to watch him  slowly grow weaker and weaker until his body shut down on him?"

The clone chuckled darkly.

"Completely helpless, brought low by something as simple as a little _toxin_ in his fuel," he added. Knockout tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Or, better yet: nanites programmed specifically to eat away at anything containing his CNA," he said conspiratorially. "From the outside, it would look like a rare degenerative disease.  _ Imagine _ how that would tear at his pride!"

The clone grinned wickedly at him.

"Knockout, your  _ mind!_" He exclaimed. The medic preened.

"I know, I know- I could make assassination a form of _art_ _!_ " He said. "His agonized bellows will have listeners thinking 'Mozartron  _who?'"_

The clone perked up.

"Now,  there's  a thought! Megatron has numerous enemies- _imagine_ how much they'd pay for a recording of his death throes!"

Knockout cackled.

"Starscream, you're a  _ genius!_" He cried. "Now, all we need is a way of getting around Soundwave."

The clone grinned, already cooking up a whirlwind of possibilities in his processor. 

This was the start of something _beautiful._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will literally pay money for someone to draw Mozartron. I'm way too attached to the idea of him now, I need it!
> 
> I really went apeshit with the headcanons in this chapter lmao  
> (It was 1 AM and I'm a nerd, I couldn't help myself.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! :)))  
> I love and appreciate all of you.


	34. Do You Trust Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parallel pep-talks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaa thank you guys so much for all your support! I'm sorry this took forever, I'm still getting my shit together lmao  
> Thank you for your patience!
> 
> (The first scene is a flashback.)

Starscream had never been important enough to speak at a military meeting in Vos. The most he'd ever done had been silent observation as a part of his education, standing behind his carrier's trine's chairs for hours on end as Vos's highest-ranking, most accomplished officers discussed planetary defense and the like. 

According to his caretakers, earning a place at that table required veritable eons of hard work and success. It was reserved exclusively for leaders, for people who would change the course of history.

He was absolutely flummoxed when, after his meager two days of recuperation from solitary confinement, he found himself on Lord Megatron's right hand side in one such planning session.

Granted, they were hiding in an abandoned warehouse's storeroom rather than one of Vos's ancient, ornate towers, but there was still the same heavy air of significance in what was being discussed.

"...Is when Soundwave will plant the signal scrambler, which will prevent anyone within its radius from being able to use their comms," his new leader said, pointing at a hologram of Iacon's Senate building. "After that, you will not be able to call for support. By this point, their security will be entirely focused on the decoy attack at the northwestern entrance..."

This was  insane. It was like something out of a fantasy.

And yet, here he was, conspiring with insurgents to attack the most heavily-fortified building on the planet and kill the most powerful members of the ruling class.

It was taking everything Starscream had not to losehis composure and panic in front of the imposing Decepticon officers surrounding him. They were scuffed and scarred, worn from a lifetime of hard physical labor. In his brightly-colored, newly polished armor, he had never felt more out of place.

"...And once the entrance is unsealed, Starscream will lead his team into the emergency stronghold and dispose of those  _ parasites _ once and for all. The room is sound-proofed, and there is only one exit." Here, Megatron cast him an amused glance. Starscream's spark fluttered in a combination of fear and adoration. "No one will be able to hear them scream- do with that information what you will."

The mecha around him chuckled, and Starscream tittered along with them, wings tucked tightly together behind him.

"You will have until the signal dampener deactivates to finish the job. Afterwards, I will send you coordinates at which I expect you all to regroup. Any questions?" Starscream had many. The room was silent, however, so he kept his mouth shut. "Good. We commence the operation at dawn. You are dismissed."

The officers all began filing out. Starscream lingered, servos clenching the back of his chair.

Megatron turned to face him fully once they were the only two left in the room.

"Is there something you wish to discuss?" He asked. 

Starscream hunched under the weight of his calculating gaze, supremely uncomfortable with being addressed by someone so... _Important._

"I- my- um. Lord Megatron," he stammered, mentally cursing himself for behaving like a fool in front of the most impressive mech he'd ever met. "I- um. Well..."

Megatron seemed to find his indignity amusing.

"Yes, Starscream?" He asked, regarding him like one would a bumbling newspark. 

Starscream's systems warmed in embarrassment, and he reset his vocalizer.

"I- I am exceptionally grateful that you have chosen me for such a momentous task," he said, "and I would never, _never_ question the soundness of your judgement..."

"But?" Megatron prompted, and Starscream was getting the impression that he was growing impatient.

"But I haven't- I've never done something of this- this  _ magnitude! _ I've never been a part of something more significant than scouting for energon, I-" He pursed his lips. "I am uncertain if... If I am an appropriate- uh, that is- a _proper_ choice. To do this." 

Megatron raised an optical ridge, and Starscream kept prattling on.

"I mean, I've never killed anyone before, and I don't know if I can- Lord Megatron, I'm a  _ scientist!_" 

Megatron chuckled.

"Not anymore," he pointed out. 

Starscream flinched at that, directing his gaze down to his pedes. A large servo came to rest on his shoulder.

"Look at me, soldier." Megatron's tone was soft, but firm. 

Starscream snapped to attention instinctively, following the command without a second thought. His leader chuckled again.

"How long were you in training before you were assigned a rank in Vos?" Megatron asked. 

"Since I could fly, until a few decades ago, my liege," he replied automatically. 

"And how long was that?" 

"Almost a million years," Starscream answered. Megatron hummed.

"I've seen your academic records, Starscream," he said. "You were at the top of your class. Tell me, can you defeat a trained opponent several times your weight class?" 

"Yes, my liege." 

"Can you successfully issue orders to a team in a combat situation?"

"Yes, my liege."

"Are you lacking any skills required to carry out the task I have assigned to you?" 

"Not to my knowledge, my liege."

Megatron steadily held his gaze.

"Then, what are you concerned about, Starscream?" He asked. Starscream looked away. "Do you worry you will lose your nerve? That, faced with the ones who sentenced you to  _ death  _ over a trumped-up charge, you will somehow be unable to pull the trigger?"

Well, when he put it like that...

"They wanted you to be a warframe," Megatron continued, "so bring them a  _ war. _ "

"Yes," Starscream said quietly, feeling the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. Megatron smirked.

"Do you trust me, Starscream?" He asked.

Starscream found himself unable to resist looking back up at his leader's face. His presence was magnetic, his words electrifying. The seeker was utterly captivated, and in that moment he knew that he would do  _ anything  _ for him.

"Yes, Lord Megatron- always. Forever."

A pleased hum emanated from deep within Megatron's powerful chest. 

"Then don't  _ ever _ question my judgement again," he said firmly, tightening his grip on Starscream's shoulder by a small fraction. 

Starscream's spark was spinning in an intoxicating combination of awe and fear. He nodded.

"Never again, my Lord," he promised. 

Megatron's smile, along with the approval thrumming in his overpowering field, could have made his spark burst.

...

When they returned to the ship, Starscream had gone straight for the console room.

Elizabeth sat at the edge of the keyboard, swinging her legs in the open air. Starscream was busy typing something furiously, muttering nonsense under his breath.

Finally, he leaned back with a satisfied hum, tapping his digits anxiously against the sides of console.

"Whatcha doin'?" Elizabeth asked. Oh, dear- he'd forgotten to fill her in on the details.

"Giving the Autobots a call," he replied. "We need to have a little  _ chat._"

Elizabeth straightened.

"I really want to cuss them out. Can I  _ please _ cuss them out?" She pleaded. Starscream shook his head.

"Not today," he said. "We're going to be  _ diplomatic _ about our displeasure, and we will express ourselves with the dignity and poise befitting our station. Just let  _ me _ do the talking."

Elizabeth's mouth twisted in displeasure. Before the human could reply, the call went through.

_"This is Autobot outpost Omega-One,"_ said the voice of their medic.  _ "Who is contacting us?" _

"Hello, Autobot," Starscream drawled. "I believe you have something that belongs to me?"

_ "That's a sick way of putting it,"  _ the medic replied. He didn't deny it.

"It's a manner of speech, Doctor- nothing to get up in arms about," Starscream said tightly, optic twitching involuntarily at the implication. "I want him back."

It wasn't a request. Starscream didn't ask nicely unless he was forced to.

_ "...I'm afraid that's not going to happen, Starscream,"  _ Ratchet said. Starscream's optic twitched again.

Dignity and poise. Dignity and poise. Dignity and poise.

_ "You two have proved to be a danger to the human population, and we cannot allow such unacceptable behavior to continue. He's staying here, where he can be monitored." _

Like some sort of  _ caged animal. _ Like  _ Starscream _ had been, in his old cell, with its four featureless walls and the lights that never went out and the way he started seeing things that weren't there-

"I wasn't asking," he snapped, distantly aware that he was revealing too much about his attachment to his clone.  Dignity and poise-  "I  _ will  _ get him back, one way or another, and if I find out you've locked him in some- some  _dingy little close_ t all alone, I will  _ hurt  _ you  _ all _ in ways you did not think you could be hurt!" 

Everything was silent for a moment. A snort came from the other end.

_ "Calm down,"  _ the medic replied.  _ "We're not like  _ you. _ And he's not alone, either." _

There was only one other Autobot prisoner that Starscream knew of, having watched Knockout's capture at the harbor. A chill ran down his spinal struts, and he clenched his jaw.

"That had better not mean what I think it means," he growled, voice pitched low and dangerous. "If you've put him anywhere  _ near _ that lunatic-"

_ "He's  fine,  Starscream,"  _ the medic interrupted.  _ "This is non-negotiable. So long as you are disruptive towards the humans, we will aim to neutralize you." _

Starscream wordlessly ground his denta.

_ "My advice? Don't threaten the people holding your teammate prisoner." _

Starscream ended the call with an abrupt press of a button, glaring holes into the screen. His claws scratched furrows into the sides of the console as his grip tightened.

"'Disruptive,' he says. Typical Autobots, always dictating what we're allowed to do! Who put  _ them  _ in charge?!" He stepped back, clenching his fists. "This is not a slight that will go unpunished. Useless, dirt-licking  _ groundpounders-_"

"Starscream?" Elizabeth asked in a small voice. "What are we going to do?"

Starscream felt his face soften, and he looked down at his charge. Her eyes were wide, and her little servos trembled.

She was still so young, so  _ naive_ _-_ his usual line of thinking would have put her in the 'liability' category. She was not the average human, however.

He could see something in her, something that reminded him of himself when he was younger. She had the potential for greatness, and the only thing holding her back was her lack of ambition. Starscream did not blame her for that- he could tell she had been suppressed, made to fit somebody else's specifications. 

Starting now, he would train her out of it. It was time for her to start being his Lieutenant.

He held his cupped servos out to her, and she hesitantly stepped into them and took a seat. 

"You and I are going to force their hand," he said, carefully lifting her to optic level, "and we will make them  _ suffer _ for their audacity."

Elizabeth swallowed, and he could feel her racing pulse through the sensors in his palms.

"I- I don't..." She was breaking into a sweat. "Starscream, I don't think I can  _ do _ that."

"Nonsense," he replied. "One day, you will look back to this moment and realize that are capable of more than you ever thought. Together, we will bring them to their _knees_ _. _ "

Elizabeth whined anxiously.

"I'm angry, too- but _look_ at us! We're  _ scavengers!_" Her voice cracked, and she grabbed her own shoulders and hunched in on herself. "We're outnumbered and outgunned. We have to stay  _ reasonable._"

Starscream bit his tongue to keep his temper from flaring. She was still learning, she would soon understand. He simply had to  _ show  _ her.

"Whose idea was it to threaten the medic into restoring my t-cog?" He asked. Elizabeth swallowed, looking down into her lap.

"...Mine," she said quietly.

"Who saved the lives of both myself and my counterpart in the Antarctic?"

"Me," Elizabeth replied a little more confidently. 

"Who attacked the _Prime himself_ after taking his precious relic right out from under him, despite being absolutely miniscule in comparison?" Starscream asked. "Despite being frozen and terrified?"

"I did," Elizabeth said firmly, lips curling into a tentative smile.

"Look at me, Elizabeth," Starscream said softly. The girl met his gaze. "Do you trust me?"

Elizabeth stared at him, eyes flitting across his face as if searching for something. After a long moment, she nodded.

"Yes."

Starscream looked right into her eyes, staring her down.

"Then don't ever doubt your capability again," he said. 

Elizabeth smiled and gave a flattered little huff.

"Alright," she said. "Thank you." 

Starscream smiled back at her.

"Of course," he replied. "Now, then- I have an idea..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named this fic 'A Bad Influence' for a reason. 
> 
> Starscream genuinely cares about Elizabeth, but he sees her as a sort of manifestation if his younger self. He tells her everything he needed to hear back then, but she's a different person in different circumstances. He's almost trying to be for her what he wished Megatron was for him. This is the only way he's ever received positive attention from authority figures, and he's trying to be helpful to her. He thinks he's encouraging her to be successful, but he's accidentally doing exactly what has been done to her for her entire life and molding her into the person he thinks she should be. (Also, he's getting her involved in a lot of really dangerous and illegal situations, and he's encouraging her to commit crimes.)
> 
> It hasn't really occurred to him that he's worked under manipulative people who just want to exploit him his whole life. He so doesn't realize that, while she pokes fun at him, she's almost got a hero-worship thing going on because he's a giant, ancient, powerful alien who keeps telling her that she's special. Her first instinct is to be exactly what he wants her to be, because that's what she's been doing her whole life for authority figures, and again- he keeps saying she's so special and amazing. She wants to be what he says she is. 
> 
> The only reason she ever balks is because of her sense of morality, which is beginning to erode because he's the only person she ever talks to.
> 
> She has positive effects on him sometimes, but he's really skewing her chances of ever having a normal, peaceful life.
> 
> Basically, she'd do almost anything for him at this point, and he's full of bad ideas. They care about each other, but not in a healthy way. This crisis isn't going to help that.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Don't forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed! :)


	35. Britney Spears Vs. The Carmelldansen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knockout and Clonescream raise hell. The Autobots are never ones to back down from a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! This is a longer one, because I just kept going- and this is only part one of the Prison Madness.

"Okay, okay," said Knockout, holding up a digit, "here's how it goes: doo-doo doodoodoodoodoo doo-doodoodoo, dah dah dahdahdah-"

"This is a stupid idea," the clone interrupted, sitting criss-cross on the floor."And, really- why does it have to be  _ human  _ music?" 

Knockout cocked an optical ridge.

"Can you remember any songs from Cybertron?" He asked. "Name one, and we'll sing it."

The clone pursed his lips. 

"Hm..." 

He'd never really listened to much music when he was younger. His media consumption had been mostly limited to holodramas and what was most likely propaganda. Not to mention the absolute _havoc_ that had been wreaked upon his older memory files with all the trauma of war.

"Uh-huh," Knockout said after a moment. "Now, shut up, and-"

"Hold on, you nincompoop!" The clone snapped. "I'm _thinking._ "

He scoured his mind, pulling up partially corrupted files that had laid untouched for millennia. Finally, he came across something of use.

"Ah-hah!" He sat a up a little straighter. "We can sing the Vosian national anthem."

Knockout stared at him incredulously.

"Oh my god," he said, "is that  _it?_ _"_ The clone glared at him.

"What?" He asked. Knockout shook his head.

"Not any folk songs, or anything?  _ Just _ the national anthem?" The clone's wings fell in embarrassment, but he pulled them back up with a haughty sniff.

"I didn't waste time on the  _ arts,_" he said imperiously, sneering the last word like curse. "I had much more  _ important _ things to attend to."

"That explains  _ so much,_" Knockout muttered, massaging where his temples would be in imitation of human body language. "Anyway, we're not singing the Vosian national anthem."

The clone spluttered.

"What's wrong with it?!" He snapped. 

"Isn't that the one that's five minutes long?" Knockout asked. _"_ _And_ borderline operatic?"

The clone rolled his optics.

"It's not _so_ difficult- we had to sing it at the beginning of every solar cycle at the War Academy," he said. Knockout gaped at him. "What?"

"I'm so, so thankful that I wasn't raised in a warframe city," he said. "It sounds _awful._ "

The clone bristled.

"How  _ dare  _ you?!" He screeched, pressing a servo to his chestplate dramatically. "Vos was the _crown jewel_ of Cybertron- the very  _ pinnacle _ of sophistication! Just because  _ we  _ took  _ pride  _ in our city doesn't mean-"

"Alright,  _ alright, _ I get it," Knockout interrupted, holding up a servo. "I don't even speak Vosian, anyway. And, since none of the music  I  listened to on Cybertron had lyrics, it looks like we're sticking with Britney Spears."

The clone huffed.

"I don't want to sing anymore," he muttered petulantly. Knockout threw his servos in the air.

"Well, then what do you suggest we  do? " He snapped impatiently. The clone said nothing. "That's what I thought. Let's take it from the top!"

" _ Fine, _ " the clone groaned. Knockout tapped a beat on the floor with his pede.

"Doo-doo doodoodoodoodoo, doo-doodoodoo," he began, then pointed at his companion. 

The clone sighed.

"Dah, dah, dahdahdah," he continued halfheartedly.

"Doo-doo doodoodoodoodoo, doo-doodoodoo." Point.

"Dah, dah, dahdahdah." Knockout nodded in approval.

"Could use a little more enthusiasm, but it'll do," he said. The clone glared at him.

"I'll show you  _enthusiasm-_ "

" Anyway, " the medic interrupted with a clap, "here's how the lyrics go: _'Baby can't you see, I'm fallin'_...'"

It took an hour for them to get the whole thing figured out. The clone couldn't decide whether he was having fun or degrading himself.

"One, two, three,  go! " Knockout shouted, pointing at the clone.

"With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride," the seeker sang loudly, having been goaded about his lackluster performance a few too many times by that point, "you're toxic, I'm slippin' under-"

He pointed at Knockout, who picked it up.

"With a taste of the poison-"

_ Bang! Bang! Bang! _

Both mecha quieted instantly, looking to the door with wide optics.

"If I have to hear one more _fragging_ minute of your awful singing, I'm going to _hurt_ someone," said Arcee, voice muffled by the thick, blast-proof metal. "Either quiet down, or _shut up._ "

The clone and Knockout stared at the door for a long minute afterwards, waiting until they were certain she had left the door.

"...How  _ rude!_" Knockout exclaimed. "It's not  _ our  _ fault she has no taste!" 

"I'm fairly certain her precious  _ Prime  _ wouldn't allow her to do anything to us, anyway," the clone muttered resentfully. "We weren't doing anything _wrong!_ "

He froze, optics widening.

"What?" Knockout asked. The clone grinned sadistically.

"Doctor," he purred, "I think I have a solution for our little  boredom issue."

Knockout pointed audials perked up the slightest bit.

"Oh?" He said, cocking his head with a devious little smile. "I'm listening."

...

When he had taken over guard duty from Bulkhead, Bumblebee hadn't understood why the Wrecker been in such a hurry to leave. 

He was pretty sure he'd figured it out.

Bumblebee was a good Autobot. Or, at least he tried to be. 

He could be impulsive, which led him to make bad decisions sometimes, but he always took the time to try and learn from his mistakes and follow Optimus's example by sticking to his morals.

Morals were important. Morals kept teams and lives and societies together. Bumblebee had lots of morals. Kindness, compassion, acceptance, understanding, _not_ beating the everloving  _ Pit _ out of defenseless prisoners who wouldn't  _ shut the frag up...  _

_ "I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves! I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, and this is how it goes!"  _

_ Clank! Clank! _

_ "I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves..." _

It had been twenty minutes. He would almost have admired their persistence, if he didn't also want to  _ steal the phase shifter and leave them stuck head-first in the ground like a couple of giant ostriches- _

No. 

Bumblebee was in control of his own actions, and doing something inadvisable like  _welding their mouths shut_ would be very, very bad. He knew better than that. It was _not _ something he wanted to do. 

_ "...Know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, and this is how it goes!" _

_ Clank! Clank! _

They wanted a reaction from him, because they were immature and stupid, but Bumblebee wasn't going to fall for their games.

No, he would just stand here like a good Autobot scout, guarding the unruly prisoners  and _hoping their vocalizers shorted out from overuse-_

- _Morals._ Morals were important. Morals separated them from the Decepticons. He'd seen firsthand what people without morals were capable of, and he would die before he became that kind of person...

Though, he would admit that Arcee's nearby pile of special 'violence rocks' was looking a bit tempting at the moment. Surely, she wouldn't mind he borrowed one or two- she  _ had  _ left them sitting out in the open, after all...

_ "...Everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves! I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, and this is how it goes!" _

_ Clank- _

_ Clunk! _

The rock cracked in half and fell to the ground, leaving a scuff mark where it had hit the door. The prisoners went silent.

Oh, that had felt _good._

A pair of glowing red optics peeked out of the window-slot towards the top of the door.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Starscream purred, voice positively _dripping_ with insincerity. "Were we  _ bothering _ you?"

Bumblebee said nothing, simply staring evenly back into those infernal optics.

"We're terribly _bored,_ you see," the seeker continued. "Perhaps you could take pity on two  _ lowly _ prisoners such as ourselves, and bring us something to do?"

A second pair of optics peeked up over the rim of the window-slot. Bumblebee guessed that Knockout must have been standing on the very tips of his pedes, based on the way they bobbed every so often.

"A datapad would be nice," the medic added. "We won't contact Megatron- _pinky promise!_ "

There was a  _ clang,  _ which Bumblebee guessed was Starscream elbowing Knockout based on his squawk of indignation.

  
Did they think he was  _ stupid?  _ Even without the security risk, there were ten datapads in the entire base- six of which belonged to Ratchet.

The scout shook his head with a glare. Starscream's optics narrowed. 

"I see," he growled. "I suppose you won't mind us, then- we're not doing anything  _ wrong,  _ after all!"

The Decepticons retreated away from the window-slot.

"From the top!"  Knockout declared.  "One, two, three, four-"

_ "-I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves!" _

Bumblebee slumped against the wall with a groan.

_ "I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, and this is how it goes-" _

_ Thunk! Thunk! _

The scout banged his head against the concrete in time with the beat. There was a momentary pause.

"That's the spirit!"  Chirped Knockout's muffled voice.  " _Again!_ "

_ "I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves..." _

...

Ratchet was utterly unimpressed.

"Really? Not a  _ single  _ _one_ of you has time for guard duty today?" He asked. 

Arcee, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and Smokescreen all shook their heads in unison. 

"I'm going on patrol," Arcee said.

'Me, too,' Bumblebee beeped.

"Miko wants to go to a concert," added Bulkhead.

Ratchet turned his gaze to Smokescreen, who cowered. 

"What's _your_ excuse?" He asked. The rookie shrank in on himself.

"I, uh..." His optics darted everywhere as he avoided the medic's steely gaze. "I'm... Allergic."

Ratchet raised an optical ridge.

" _Allergic,_ " he repeated flatly. Smokescreen nodded fervently.

"Uh, yep!" He said. "To- to Starscream. I am very,  _ severely _ allergic to Starscream, and guarding him makes my plating itch."

"Join the club," Arcee muttered.

"If you were having 'itchy plating,' didn't you come see me yesterday, then?" Ratchet asked. "I would classify the first case of allergies to specific people in the _recorded history of our species_ to be a medical emergency!"

Smokescreen suddenly found his pedes to be absolutely  fascinating.

"I just, uh, didn't want to trouble you?" He squeaked. 

Ratchet didn't blink, mouth drawing into a thin line. 

"You're gonna have to do better than that, kid," he said. Smokescreen deflated.

"Okay, so I'm all about being helpful, but-"

"They won't stop singing, and they're fragging  _ terrible _ at it," Arcee interrupted.

"I couldn't make them stop," Bulkhead added. "They wouldn't listen to me! They just kept singing the same song over and over and  _ over _ again!"

Ratchet scoffed.

"You're refusing to guard a couple of dangerous Decepticons because can't handle a little bit of  _ singing?_" He asked incredulously. 

All four of them nodded. Ratchet rolled his optics.

"And you call yourselves  _ soldiers..._" He muttered. Arcee bristled at that.

"If you can spend a half-hour over there with _no_ breaks in between, we'll suck it up," she said. Ratchet spluttered.

"I can't waste time  _ babysitting, _ I have  important work to do-"

"I'll make sure Bulkhead doesn't touch anything," Arcee added. Ratchet appeared to think about that. "Thirty minutes, that's all we're asking."

" _Fine,_ " the medic relented. "I'm fairly certain I can deal with a couple of _noisy prisoners,_ given what I put up with from  some of _you,_ " he looked pointedly at Bulkhead, who looked away, "on a daily basis. If anything, I'll be taking a break."

With that, he set off. 

"See you in ten," Arcee called after him. Ratchet waved her off.

"Yeah, yeah- you won't be laughing when I last the whole half-hour," he replied.

...

Ratchet lasted seven minutes. 

The others hardly looked up when he returned.

"Told you so," Arcee said. 

"I don't want to hear it!" Ratchet replied, stomping to his work-station to start angrily tinkering with something. "I threatened to reformat Starscream into trash compactor, and he cited the Autobot Code at me!  _ Starscream!_"

Smokescreen giggled.

"Aww, did somebody call your bluff?" He teased.

Ratchet paused and sent him a very, very dark look. Smokescreen's doorwings pressed together nervously. 

" _Kidding!_ " He squeaked, holding up his servos in surrender. "Um. That may be partially my fault."

One of Ratchet's optics twitched.

" _What._ " 

Smokescreen laughed nervously.

"Well, I couldn't get them a datapad like they wanted, so I just recited the Autobot Code to them," he explained, twiddling his thumb digits. "'Course, when I ran out of rules, they started singing again-"

"Hold on," Bulkhead interrupted, "you have the  entire thing _memorized?_ "

Smokescreen blinked. 

"Well, yeah," he said, "for the Elite Guard. You guys  don't?" Arcee snorted.

"No," she said. "It's been a couple million years since I went over it, but doesn't it set a limit on how long you get to _recharge_ on your off-shift?"

Smokescreen looked like he was going to cry.

"You mean, I'm allowed to sleep  more than four hours a night?" He asked, sounding ridiculously hopeful. 

He received four blank stares in return. Bulkhead shook his head pityingly.

" _ Kid, _ " he said. Smokescreen looked crestfallen.

"Wait, is that a  _ no?_" He asked, voice cracking.

" _No,_ " Ratchet said. "I mean, four hours the minimum required amount of recharge time for healthy processor function, but good  _ grief!_" 

Smokescreen looked like the secrets of the universe had unlocked themselves before his optics.

"I'm gonna take a  _ nap _ today," he murmured. 

"You can do that  _ later,_" Ratchet said. "Now, back up- did you say they listened to the  _ entire thing?_" Smokescreen nodded.

"I mean, they kept on interrupting me, and they were rude about some parts, but yeah." He shuddered. "Also, they wouldn't stop laughing at the prisoner interrogation guidelines. I'm glad I wasn't on their ship for very long."

Ratchet hummed thoughtfully.

"So, it really  _ is _ a case of boredom," he mused. "I suppose we can find something to keep them occupied. Datapads are obviously out of the question, but..."

'Raf has an audiobook collection,' Bumblebee piped up. 'I could ask to borrow a couple of those.' 

Arcee frowned thoughtfully.

"If it'll get them to shut up, I could see if June has anything she's willing to donate," she suggested. 

"Both of those are good ideas," Ratchet said, "but there's something I want to do first." He turned to Bulkhead with a crooked smirk. "Go tell Miko I require her  _ expertise._"

...

"Are they still sleeping?" Miko asked. Ratchet tip-toed to the door, peeked through the window-slot, and nodded.

"Yes," he whispered. "Is everything set up?"

Miko gave him a thumbs-up with a grin.

"Hell- I mean,  _ heck _ yeah, dude!" She replied, plugging her laptop into the massive speakers they had pushed right up the against the door. "I used to think you were totally lame, but this is  _ evil! _ I love it!" 

Ratchet scoffed. 

"Just because I'm  _ old  _ doesn't mean I'm above petty revenge," he said. 

They both froze as heavy pedesteps echoed down the hall. 

" _ Scrap! _ " Ratchet hissed. 

Optimus turned a corner and came into view and stopped, watching them suspiciously. 

"What are you doing?" He asked. There was brief moment of silence.

"It was _his_ idea!" Miko blurted, pointing at Ratchet. 

The old medic gaped at her, looking utterly betrayed. Optimus turned his gaze to him expectantly.

"It's only a few hours of annoying music, it's not like we're  _ hurting _ them!" Ratchet protested the silent accusation. "What are you doing over here, anyway? Interrogation isn't until tomorrow!" 

There was shuffling inside the cell. 

"What's going on out there?" Starscream asked suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

" _Shaddup,_ " Knockout groaned.

Optimus approached the cell.

"I am here to congratulate you on finding a healthier outlet for your aggression," he announced. 

Miko and Ratchet shared an incredulous look behind his back. Starscream seemed to share that sentiment.

" _What._ "

"Stop  _ talking,_" Knockout whined. "Go'way!"

Optimus ignored them.

"Expressing one's feelings through art is a much less destructive method of coping with negative emotions than violence," he continued. "I am very happy to see you both growing as individuals."

There was a beat of silence before Starscream burst into cackles.

"Your stupidity would be _cute,_ if I didn't  _ hate _ you," he said nastily. "Go pontificate at your precious Autobot  dunderheads instead of  _ insulting _ me with your condescension."

Ratchet glared icily at the door, patting Optimus's arm supportively. The Prime was unfazed.

"I was not being condescending," he replied patiently. "I was merely-"

"Would you people _ shut the frag up?!_" Knockout shouted. "I swear on Primus's _rusting carcass_ that I will  _stab_ someone! I'm  _ trying  _ to get my beauty sleep!"

Ratchet gaped. Optimus frowned.

"Is he saying bad words?" Miko asked.

"I request that you not blaspheme," the Prime said sternly. "Some find it to be _distasteful."_

"Oh, yeah?" Knockout asked. "And what are  you going to do about it,  _ Cow-lord?_" 

Optimus's frown deepened.

"Obviously, you are feeling very aggressive this morning," he said. "Perhaps you require some _assistance_ in expressing it in a healthy manner."

He nodded at Ratchet and Miko, and walked away. The girl grinned, clicking something on her laptop. Electronic music began blasting out of the speakers.

"Hope you like the Carmelldansen, _'Cons!_ " She shouted over the din, ignoring their shrieks of outrage. "See you later!"

Ratchet transformed and opened a door. 

"Let's get you to school," he said. Miko rolled her eyes.

" _ Fine, _ " she groaned, climbing into the passenger's seat and slumping with a huff. 

"Hey," Ratchet said as he began the drive back to the main room, "it's better than what _they_ have to deal with. How long is that going to play?"

Miko snickered as they exited the base.

"Four  _ hours!_" 

Ratchet guffawed.

"Of  _ that?_" He exclaimed. "I've known people who would classify that as a _war crime!_ "

They laughed together, blissfully unaware that Miko had left YouTube on Autoplay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and Elizabeth are having a weird, increasingly unhealthy (and one bad intention away from becoming codependent) soap opera in the middle of the desert, while Clonescream is just going off the rails in Bad Boy Jail. 
> 
> Their singing absolutely as bad as you're imagining. My eardrums shriveled just thinking about it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Don't forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed!!! 😊😊☺️


	36. Isolated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth comes to a discouraging realization. Starscream is kind of an accidental shitlord. Things continue to be uncomfortable on the Harbinger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry I took so long to update! As I mentioned in my other fic, I'm recovering from school and all its Bullshit. I tend to stagnate when I wait too long, so it's taken me awhile to get back into the swing of writing. Thank you for being patient with me! 😊

_ She was back at her old house- her  _ parents' _ house- standing idly on the front porch, staring at the door. The sun was shining, but she felt anxious- as though she were missing something.  _

_ "Hey, kiddo," said a voice from behind her. She yelped, and spun around to find her dad on the front steps, smiling at her with a warmth she hadn't felt from him in too long. "Welcome home." _

_ "You know I'm still a girl, right?" She asked, far more brash than she had ever been with him before. "I'm not going to stick around if you don't respect that." _

_ Her father's face turned pensive.  _

_ "Your mother and I did some talking, and some research, and... We owe you an apology," he said. "And you're more than welcome to stay with us for a few months before you go to college." _

_ Elizabeth felt light, peaceful. Suddenly, everything was okay again. _

_ "Oh," she said. "Thank you. I'd love to." _

_ The front door opened and admitted her mom, who immediately wrapped Elizabeth in a hug. _

_ "You're back!" Her mother cried. Distantly, Elizabeth felt that the normally composed woman was being uncharacteristically expressive, but pushed it to the back of her mind. "I'm so sorry, honey, we treated you terribly-" _

_ "-But, we're going to fix that, now," her father continued, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We love you." _

_ "I love you guys, too," Elizabeth replied, beaming. Everything was warm, and sunny, and perfect. "I'd do  _ anything _ for you, I-" _

" _Augh!" _

Elizabeth was rudely awakened from her dream as Starscream jolted upright, vents roaring like a vacuum cleaner. He spent a few moments staring into space, shuddering, before he slumped. 

She was suddenly grateful that she was curled up at the foot of the slab, where he couldn't flail and accidentally squish her. Her mind reeled, and she fought back disgust and grief as she processed her dream.

Starscream's fans slowly quieted to their usual low purr.

"...Are you okay?" Elizabeth finally asked, willing her hands to stop trembling. 

Starscream clenched his jaw and sighed heavily.

"It's morning," he grumbled, sliding off the berth. "May as well start planning." He made for the door.

"Hold on!" Elizabeth called after him. "Don't strand me!" Starscream glaced back at her and sighed again.

"We need to get you another rope," he muttered, scooping her up a little less gently than usual and trudging to the storage room.

Elizabeth nodded mutely, swallowing down the lump in her throat. Fucking dreams.

She was deposited on her table, and sat cross-legged at its corner, staring into space.  Starscream grabbed a cube and leaned against an outcropping, grumbling under his breath.

It was silent as they lost themselves in their respective musings.

Elizabeth had believed the hurt was all out of her system. She had thought she could move on with her life. Why would she dream that? _Why_ would her brain drag that back to the surface-

"So," Starscream spoke up, interrupting her train of thought, "I have an idea that will force Prime to return our teammate to us." Elizabeth straightened.

"Oh?" She said, ignoring the dread pooling in her guts. Starscream nodded.

"Since  he treasures his precious _fleshlings_ so much, I say we kidnap one and hold it for ransom."

Elizabeth felt like she'd been dunked in a bucket of ice water.

"What? _No,_ we can't hurt an innocent person! Starscream, what the fuck?!" She stood and glared at him. "And, really? 'It?' What am I, chopped liver?" 

Starscream rolled his optics, swishing the energon around in the bottom of his cube.

"Fine, fine, 'they,'" he said patiently, as if humoring a child. "And we won't be  _ hurting  _ them, simply borrowing their time!"

Elizabeth shook her head.

" _No. _ No, no, no. That is  _ not _ happening," she snapped, making a slashing motion with her hand. "Can't we just- I don't know, rob a bank, or something?" 

She cringed after hearing what came out of her mouth. Starscream tapped his chin thoughtfully, mulling over her suggestion.

"If you  insist, I suppose we could work with that," he conceded. Elizabeth blanched.

"Wait- no, no, let's commit any crimes," she said, wincing as her voice cracked. "Can't we just negotiate? I think we should negotiate!" 

Starscream sighed heavily. Elizabeth winced again, all kinds of conflicting emotions roiling in her chest.

"I am  _ trying  _ to be accomodating, here," he muttered. "Did you see what happened last time we tried to negogiate? They won't  listen  to us. If they won't hand him over willingly, then we will have to  _ make  _ them." Elizabeth trembled.

"Starscream, I don't want to be an accessory to a bank robbery," she said. The seeker squinted at her. "I  _ can't _ have a criminal record, I can't-"

"What in the Pit are you going on about? Your human authorities can't find you!"

_...Oh.  _

Yes, that was right. She was disconnected from society now. Her family hated her. All her friends (and she had never been particularly close to them) probably thought she was dead. 

Elizabeth had no money, no opportunities (It was  _ September _ now, how was it already September? Goodbye, college), and no support.

...She didn't have a _future_ with humanity. This wasn't a vacation, or a temporary lodging- this was  _ permanent. _ It was her and the Starscreams against literally everyone else in the world. 

Because, really, what would happen if she returned to society? She could have escaped on multiple occasions, but she'd stayed. She'd thrown in her lot with Starscream. 

And, even if she told them that she had Stockholm Syndrome or something, what did she have? Where would she go? 

She swallowed the lump in her throat as the memories of her dream came back to her, with the warmth and the light with her family- No, not her family, they'd  _ abandoned _ her.

It hadn't really sunk in until that point: She had  _ nothing _ except for Starscream. This was her  _ life _ now.

Elizabeth's mouth went dry.

"I..." She searched for something to say. "I... Don't know."

Starscream furrowed his optical ridges at her. 

"You appear unwell. Have you consumed any sustenance?" He asked. Elizabeth looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

"Please don't make me hurt anyone," she whimpered. " _Please. _ Let's find another way to do this-"

Starsream cut her off with a sharp huff.

"I've grown tired of this," he growled, loudly setting down his cube on the outcropping. "Normally, I am more than willing to accomodate your little  _ delusional phase, _ but our- that is, my  other self is being held captive by our  enemies, alone in a cell with someone who tried to  _ kill _ me!"

Elizabeth's pulse skyrocketed. Starscream paced, shaking the ship around them with the force of his heavy footsteps. 

"I don't have  _ time _ to entertain your sensitivities- and, frankly, it is high time you dropped them- because my clone is in  _ danger!_" He shouted, optics blazing. His wings were high and tight, making him more imposing than he usually was.

Elizabeth swallowed nervously.

"I thought the Autobots weren't gonna try to hurt you anymore," she protested weakly. Starscream scoffed derisively at that.

"Well, _clearly_ they don't actually care about his safety, given who they stuck him in with," he spat, glaring at the wall. "I don't have time for this. If you don't want to participate, you can stay here while  _ I  _ try to help our teammate in his time of need, because it seems I'm the only one who _cares_ about him-"

"Wait." Elizabeth was surprised at the steadiness of her voice. "You said you won't hurt anyone, right?"

Starscream's mouth pinched.

"No, probably not," he muttered. "I can't promise anything if one of them gets underpede."

Elizabeth swallowed and willed her hands to stop shaking. 

"I'll do it," she said firmly. "And I've got a few suggestions, too."

Starscream optical ridges shot up in genuine surprise.

"Is that so?" He asked. 

Elizabeth nodded hesitantly, and Starscream's face broke into a lopsided smile. 

"Good. I'm...  _ Proud _ of you," he murmured. 

Elizabeth smiled back. The praise was _almost_ enough to assuage the growing pit of guilt in her stomach.

"I care about him, too," she replied. "I really do." Starscream's wings fell.

"I know. I admit, I am... Very concerned," he said, gaze a million miles away. "I know they haven't hurt him  _ physically, _ but that is not the only way to break a mech." 

They shared a pensive silence.

"I shudder to imagine what he must be going through," Starscream continued. "No doubt something _awful."_

...

A long but indeterminate amount of time after the Autobots had abandoned them to their cruel fate, the clone sat in an upright fetal position on the floor, face buried in his knees. 

Knockout was sprawled across the berth, staring at ceiling.

"This has  _ got _ to be overkill," he muttered.

"Agreed," the clone croaked.

The Caramelldansen echoed through the concrete halls, burning itself further into their processors with every 'oo-oo-wah-wah.'

There was no escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Don't forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed! 😊


	37. Theft and Tomfoolery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and Elizabeth put their plan into action. Clonescream and Knockout catch a break. Arcee is confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaa I'm sorry this update took forever- life is tumultuous sometimes and I get distracted. Thank you for being patient with me! :D

Starscream cocked an optical ridge at Elizabeth, who had insisted on donning a frilly little red garment and decorating her face before they left.

"Why are you applying your mouth-paint?" He asked. "No one is even going to  _ see _ you."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and capped her lipstick with an impatient huff. The garment swished around her knees.

"It's the  _ principle  _ of the matter," she replied, sliding a cheap pair of heart-shaped sunglasses onto her face. "Not that I expect you to understand- I'm going for a  _ vibe _ here. Can you pass me the scarf, please?" 

Starscream glanced at the large pile of unworn scarces they'd amassed over the past few months with counterfeit money and an Amazon account, pursing his lips.

"Which one?" He asked. Elizabeth shot him a Look over her shoulder, curling her bright red lips in disgust.

"The  _ acid green  _ one, obviously," she sneered. When Starscream went to grab it, she made a loud noise of disgust. "Oh my god,  _ no- _ I was being sarcastic! What, do you want me to look like a  _ Christmas decoration?! _ Get me the black one. Black goes with everything." 

Starscream narrowed his optics. That attitude simply would not do.

"I don't appreciate your tone,  _ Lieutenant,_" he said curtly, pitch dangerously low to remind her who  exactly  was calling the shots. "We are wasting enough time on these frivolities as is. Don't disrespect me because I am ignorant to the nuance of your  _ alien draperies!_"

Elizabeth tensed and pursed her lips.

"Right, right, sorry," she muttered. "I'm just nervous- I've never committed a crime before."

Starscream regarded her oddly for a moment.

"Ah, youth." He sighed wistfully, staring into the distance, then focused back on her. "A word of advice: If you want to kill someone, don't be theatrical about it, no matter how satisfying it is in the moment. You need to be  _ fast._" His mouth twisted. "Of course,  _ I  _ can be as theatrical as I want, since I have weapons built into my body- but  _ you _ have to be smart about it."

Elizabeth paled.

"Wait, we're not  _ killing _ anyone, are we?" She asked, voice tinged with hysteria. "I'm very much  _ not _ down for that-"

"Just keeping our options open," Starscream interrupted blithely. "You never know what will happen."

Elizabeth furrowed her eyebrows.

"I'm _not_ gonna kill anybody," she insisted. 

Nobody ever believed they would. 

"Never say never," Starscream replied, carefully picking up the pile of scarves. "I used to think the same thing."

" _Starscream."_

"Fine, fine," the seeker said absently, pulling a silver scarf out of the pile with the tips of his digits. He dropped it on Elizabeth's shoulder. "I think this is a  much better color to compliment your red."

Elizabeth snorted as she wound the loop of fabric around her neck.

"You're biased," she accused playfully. Starscream flicked an imaginary speck of dust off his silver chesplate.

"Perhaps," he replied. "Do you have any specific venue in mind?"

Elizabeth was messing with her hair, attempting to impose some sort of order on the tangled dark curls. Her lips curled into a smirk.

"I know a place- the owner is a real _bitch._ "

...

The clone was losing his mind, and Knockout wasn't looking much better.

The first four hours of nonsense had been bad enough, but it seemed that the endless madness of the human internet had decided to unleash itself upon them without holding back. 

They had heard disturbing stories about a creature named 'Shrek,' several renditions of the same stupid songs with little alterations that made them that much more insufferable, and rants by idiots who believed that the planet was flat- and it was _still_ going.

_ "...So without further ado, here are the top five sexiest Looney Tunes characters." _

"Starscream?" Knockout croaked. The clone grunted in response. "There is something  _ pathologically _ wrong with this species."

_ "Number five: Elmer Fudd." _

"Tell me something I don't already know," the clone replied. 

Pedesteps approached. 

"Has this been going  all day? " Ratchet asked incredulously.

" _ Yes, _ " Knockout and the clone answered in exhausted unison.

"Wait, what the hell is this?!" Squeaked an annoying little voice belonging to one organic pest. 

"Wonderful," the clone muttered, "the  _ rodent  _ is here." 

"I heard that!" Miko shouted. "Maybe we should leave this on a little longer!"

"Oh?" Taunted the clone. "Will you  _ really-?"_

"Starscream, if I have to listen to even  _ one more minute  _ of pitbound garbage because of you, I am going to  _ literally  _ rip out your tongue and  _ shove it up your exhaust!_" Knockout interrupted shrilly, clawing shallow furrows into the berth.

The clone decided to shut up. The noise from the computer finally stopped.

"That's more like it," Ratchet said. "We were kind enough to bring you some entertainment." 

The cube-shaped ration slot opened, and a flat device was pushed through.

"I took the liberty of uploading some human media onto that. It's like a datapad, but it's incapable of wireless connection," Ratchet said. "You won't be able to access the internet or contact anyone- and you have to  _ share it! _I'm not making another one. If it breaks, you're out of luck."

The clone watched as Knockout carefully retrieved the device from the floor, powering it on.

"Why are you doing this for us?" He asked suspiciously. 

"You're cooperating, for one," Ratchet replied, "and it's better to have occupied prisoners than annoying ones. In fact, you could have spared yourselves the entire debacle if you'd just  _ asked nicely._" 

Both prisoners shared a flat, unimpressed look. Ratchet seemed to interpret their silence as thoughtful, however. 

"Next time you want something, I wouldn't recommend trying to get it by torquing people off," he continued. "We're interrogating you again tomorrow."

"Later, losers!" Miko exclaimed.

The pedesteps disappeared down the corridor. 

"Fragging Autobots!" Knockout muttered, scrolling through the content on the device. "It's all kiddie shows!" 

The clone didn't know what that meant, but groaned nevertheless.

At the very least, it was silent.

...

Ah, Oklahoma. It was odd to be back in her home state. Elizabeth had missed it, but she also hadn't ever wanted to see it again.

Thankfully, it was dark enough that she couldn't see much of anything at all.

"Are you getting there?" She shouted, standing a good distance away from where Starscream was fiddling with the large suspension cables. Finally, he got fed up and just blasted the head of the large transmission tower.

In the distance, the orange glow from the nearby city went dark. Elizabeth winced sympathetically- this was probably going to take forever to fix.

Ah, well. The other Starscream could be getting hurt, so really- what was a little power outage to save her friend?

She ignored the rational part of her brain listing all the ways this could potentially hurt people, clenching her gloved fists around an empty shopping bag that had gotten stuck to that same friend's foot when he'd robbed the Walmart for ice cream.

"There," Starscream said, gently scooping her up and taking off. "Primitive technology- those are laughably vulnerable!" 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Elizabeth replied, crossing her arms. 

Starscream swooped down and landed in a field. He transformed, placed Elizabeth on the ground, and unsubspaced his groundbridge remote. 

"I'm giving you eight minutes to grab what you can, and then the groundbridge is opening again. Do you have your sack?"

Elizabeth nodded, gripping the edges of her bag with shaky hands. Starscream input the coordinates, and a large green portal tore open before them.

"Go fast," the seeker commanded. Elizabeth nodded and sprinted through the groundbridge (a much more disorienting experience when she was alone), staggering into her (formerly) local pharmacy. 

She blinked a few times to regain her bearings, and took a deep breath. Behind her, the portal closed, leaving her in the dark. Alone. 

It was eerily silent but for her heart pounding in her ears, and she felt almost as if she were in a doll's house after spending so much time living in a ship scaled to alien proportions. She read the signs on the shelves and found the correct aisle.

Her knees felt like jello as she speed-walked to the right section, staring down the brightly colored boxes and their official-looking price tags. 

She was robbing a pharmacy. She was _robbing_ a _pharmacy._

Briefly, a the idea that she could just run away flitted into her mind. Part of her wanted to, wanted so desperately to get back to some semblance of 'normal.'

She dismissed the thought as soon as it came. Even if she had anywhere to go, she didn't want to leave Starscream. Even if she didn't need him, she wouldn't want to abandon him- to  _ betray  _ him like that. 

Her hands sweated and trembled in her gloves, and she hesitantly grabbed the first box and dropped it in her sack. Then, she grabbed two more. 

She became consumed by her task, grabbing medicine in a frenzy until her little shopping bag was stuffed to the brim, and then piling as many as she could into her arms until she could carry no more. 

She stood there awkwardly in the middle of the aisle, waiting for the groundbridge to reopen. She settled her chin on one of the boxes, shifting her weight.

Suddenly, she heard the distinct sound of a groundbridge opening- but no green light flooded the dark pharmacy. It was outside.

Elizabeth panicked a moment, wondering if Starscream had accidentally put it where she couldn't get to (there was no way she could open a door right now), and then panicked _further_ when two muffled, unfamiliar voices started talking near the door. She hid behind a shelf at tge back of the pharmacy, pulse skyrocketing.

The door opened, and Elizabeth blood froze when she heard transformation noises.

"-strange place to pick up an energy signal," said a feminine voice. Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek, mentally cursing both herself and Starscream for failing to anticipate that. "I don't see anythin- Wait."

Elizabeth felt hot pinpricks on her scalp, breathing as quietly as she could. Heavy footsteps drew slightly closer. 

"I think someone's in here," the voice said quietly (but Cybertronians were loud, they had to be because they needed to hear each other and they were so damn  _ huge-_). "A human. I can feel them."

Of course. Of course the fucking robot would be picking up on her electromagnetic presence,  of fucking _course._

The footsteps got closer.

"Hey," the voice called, "I know you're in here."

Elizabeth insides were freezing, but she stayed put. Just a little longer, and the groundbridge would open, and then she'd run as fast as she could. She repeated the steps to herself like a mantra.

"I don't want to hurt you," the voice continued, at the other end of the aisle now. Elizabeth didn't care. This (probable) Autobot would just take her away and give her to the government to be locked up and interrogated and-

A groundbridge opened at the front of the pharmacy, exactly where it had been the first time. The voice let out an exclamation, but Elizabeth was too busy shoving her thoughts away and sprinting like her life depended on it to care. 

She ran a couple aisles down and booked it to the front, dropping a couple boxes along the way. 

Almost, _almost-_

A giant figure appeared out of the corner of her eye, and she felt something brush agaist the skirt if her dress.

"Hey!" The Autobot shouted. Elizabeth didn't look back, dropping a few more boxes as she sprinted through the groundbridge.

She tumbled out of the other side into the  Harbinger , tripping over her own feet and landing face-first on top of the pile of medicine. The portal closed behind her. 

Frantically, Elizabeth extricated herself from the pile and looked behind her at the empty wall. Even still, her heart raced, pumping adrenaline through her system and keeping her tense. 

"Excellent work, Lieutenant," Starscream praised. Elizabeth yelped, whipping back around to face him. 

Before Starscream could say anything else, Elizabeth darted over to his feet and wrapped her arms around his ankle.

Starscream shifted slightly.

"Um. What are you doing?" He asked. Elizabeth tightened her grip, pressing her face into the warm metal. "Elizabeth-"

"There was an Autobot," the girl replied in a rush. "She- I  _ think _ they're a she- was inside the building and almost grabbed me!"

Starscream paused. 

"Is that so?" He asked. Elizabeth nodded, still clinging to his ankle. 

Starscream carefully pulled his leg out of her hold, and knelt down with a large grin. 

"Well done," he chuckled. Elizabeth felt a sense of pride bloom in her chest, and smiled back at him. "I presume you met the two-wheeler, then. She's quite fast."

Elizabeth grimaced.

"Yeah," she muttered. "That was... Terrible."

Starscream hummed.

"Regardless, I'm impressed with you," he said. "You did well tonight."

Elizabeth beamed, pushing the knowledge of the damage she had caused far into the back of her mind.

...

Arcee cursed as the human disappeared through the groundbridge, taking her stolen goods with her. 

_ 'Arcee, report,'  _ Optimus said.  _ 'Have you located the human?' _

She sighed, rolling her shoulders to work out the crick that staying hunched over was giving her. They couldn't make the ceiling a  _ little  _ taller?

"Yes... And no," she replied. "They stole a bunch of medicine and got away through a groundbridge." Optimus hummed thoughtfully.

_ 'I suspect the culprit may be Starscream,'  _ he said.  _ 'He seems to have enlisted the help of his human friend in the theft.' _

Arcee's lip curled.

"Figures," she muttered darkly. "What would they want with that much medicine?"

_ 'Do you know what they took?' _

Arcee crouched, getting a good look at one of the boxes the human had dropped. Her optics narrowed in confusion.

"Well..."

...

"Laxatives!" Elizabeth announced proudly, holding up one of the boxes she'd stolen. Starscream furrowed his optical ridges.

"What do these 'laxatives' do?" He asked. Elizabeth pursed her lips awkwardly and waved him off.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "Just know that temporarily puts people out of commission." Starscream grinned.

"Perfect," he purred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classy, I know. 
> 
> I don't know shit about Ponca City's power grid, and frankly I think it would be cause for concern if I wrote out a plan to cause a mass power outage. Same with the Pharmacy 😂
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Don't forget to comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed!


	38. Roomie Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clone is a mess, and Knockout is sadly stuck in a room with him. They make this everyone else's problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mature themes and implications.
> 
> Hey guys! We'll get back to the main plot next chapter, but this is important too. Thank you for all your support, it's what motivates me to keep writing!!!! :D

The clone watched the Autobots before him boredly. They stared back at him, all oddly grim. The human liasion stood on the table with his arms crossed, glaring up at him.

"I presume you wish to know the locations of a few mines?" The clone asked. "Or perhaps Megatron's grand master plan? _Do_ take your time, it's not as if I have anything better to do." 

The human uncrossed his arms.

"Your little friend robbed a pharmacy in her hometown," he said. "Any info on  _ that?_" 

The clone's optical ridges shot skyward.

"Elizabeth did a _robbery?_ " He asked incredulously. "Impressive! Good for her."

The glares intensified. 

...

The clone was shoved back into the cell with a slag-eating grin on his face. 

"Oh, good- you're back!" Knockout exclaimed, holding the not-datapad (or 'Thingamadoohopper,' as the former Decepticon CMO had dubbed it) in his lap. "The shows on this are all garbage! Come make fun of them with me." 

The clone sneered, but settled onto the berth next to his cellmate regardless.

"I received _splendid_ news today!" He said, ignoring the obnoxious, brightly colored characters on-screen. "Apparently, Elizabeth committed a crime!"

Knockout synthesized a whistle.

"Isn't that your pet fleshie?" He asked. The clone nodded proudly. "Neat. I thought you were of the opinion that they're all vermin."

The clone hummed, furrowing his optical ridges at the stupid little characters as they admonished a 'Swiper' for 'swiping.' 

"Yes, well- Elizabeth is a very _special_ human," he replied. "This is utterly ridiculous, what is the purpose of this?"

"I know, right?" Knockout muttered. "He does this every single episode, you'd think they'd have done something about him by now. At least most of the names make sense- 'Backpack,' 'Map,' 'Swiper,' 'Boots'- they're actual  _ designations _ and not gobbledegook!" 

"Such as 'Thingamadoohopper?'" The clone asked dryly. Knockout glared at him, but didn't reply.

They endured about five more minutes of the human nonsense before they could tolerate no more, and ended up slouched on the berth, staring into space.

"We should have asked for a game," Knockout lamented. "Something like _QuestSim._ Do you think they have a QuestSim?" 

The clone blinked slowly.

"What on Primus's rusty aft is a fragging  _ QuestSim?_" He moaned. Knockout looked at him incredulously.

"Wait, _seriously?_ " He asked. "You know, the little box that projected the things, and you'd create a little hologram avatar and have space adventures?" The clone huffed.

"Never heard of it. Sounds like a waste of technology."

"It was  _ fun,_" Knockout protested. 

"That's exactly _why_ it was pointless," the clone replied flatly. 

Knockout stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment.

"You've really just always been like that, haven't you?" He said. 

"Like  _ what?_" The clone squawked indignantly. "I'm fine just the way I am!" 

Knockout rolled his optics.

"Sure, if you like to have a pole up your exhaust," he muttered, then went into a mocking falsetto, "'I like to run a  _ tight ship,  _ Knockout, tighter than my-'"

"Well, it's- it's better than having no discipline at all!" The clone spluttered. Knockout leveled him with a bemused look. "What? What is  that supposed to mean?!" 

"You?  Disciplined?" The medic asked. "Would you like the list of incidents that stemmed from your lack of self-control chronologically or in order of severity?" 

The clone's biolights brightened in anger. 

"Well, we don't  all get the benefit of such a  _ low-risk _ position," he snapped. "You had a guaranteed spot on the  _Nemesis_ , and you squandered it to be a _prisoner!_ "

Knockout turned to face him fully.

"One:  you don't know anything about my life.  Two:  you'd think that being in a such precarious position would motivate you to exercise _more_ caution, and yet you ended up in my med-bay every other day with Megatron-related injuries because you couldn't put up and shut up!" 

The clone's claws sank into the berth.

"That was  _ not my fault,_" he growled. Knockout scoffed.

"Oh,  now  you're hiding behind the whole 'clone' excuse?" He sneered. "Aren't  you just the picture of maturity!"

The clone's lip curled.

"That's not what I meant!" He snarled. "Not that it's any of your business, anyhow! Have you grown too accustomed to having your  _ mech-toy  _ around to protec-"

Abruptly, Knockout grabbed him by his jaw and forced him to look directly into his optics.

"Don't finish that sentence," he hissed. "I will  _hurt_ you." 

The clone glared at him. 

Knockout set his jaw and narrowed his optics. 

The clone's lower lip trembled, and to his horror, he could feel coolant building in the corners of his optics. His vents hitched.

Knockout let go of his face as if he'd been burned, shaking his servo in disgust.

"Ew- what the  _ frag?!_" He swore. 

The clone wanted the ground open up and swallow him whole as he choked out a whimper.

"Starscream, what are you  _ doing?!_" Knockout exclaimed, recoiling with a shudder. "Stop that! Are you _malfunctioning?!_ " 

The clone buried his face in his knees and sobbed, not knowing what exactly he was crying about but completely unable to stop. 

This was disgraceful,  _ disgusting. _ Starscream  _ never _ cried, hadn't in eons- especially not from a spat! Where had this _come_ from?!

"I can't- I can't turn it off!" He blubbered, clutching at his shoulders with quaking servos.

"Stop being sad!" Knockout commanded, edging away from him nervously. "This is really weird!" 

"I hate  _ everything!_" The clone wailed. "I miss Elizabeth, and I miss my other me, and I miss Cybertron, and I miss being a  _ real person- _ " He cut himself off with a choked sob. "I can't even be  _ myself _ right, and there's already a me, but who can I be if I can't be  me? There's no one else to be, I'm not allowed to be _anything!_ " 

"What in Pit are you  _ talking  _ about?!" Knockout exclaimed. "That doesn't make any sense!"

_ "I know!" _ The clone shouted miserably.

For a moment, all was quiet but for the clone's distraught keening. Knockout reset his vocalizer.

"Well, uh- I can see that you're a little stressed out," he began awkwardly, eyeing the seeker like a ticking time bomb. 

"Y- you  _ think?_" The clone snapped, sounding far more pitiful than venemous to his own audials. "I have a whole entire life stored in my memories, but they're not really  mine! Up until a few months ago, I  _ was _ Starscream!" 

He was humiliating himself, but he couldn't muster the will to _shut up._

"I thought if I suppressed it, it would all go away and I could pretend to be him, but  _I'm not him! _ Not as he is now, anyway- I feel like a newspark again, but I  _ am  _ a newspark, because my spark may be identical to his, but it is still a  different spark! I have a completely different processor, and I- I don't  _ think  _ right, I don't quite work the same way, and I  hate it! I wish he had just left those protoforms to collect dust, because then I would still be him!" His voice grew soft. "I can't  be anyone else, not with his entire mind copied into mine."

Knockout blinked. His expression was confused and apprehensive.

"Um. Alright, then," the medic said dumbly.

The clone scrubbed frustratedly at the coolant dripping down his face. 

"Forget I said anything," he muttered. "I'm- I'm in a  _ mood, _ that's all. Probably need a defrag cycle." 

Knockout studied him a moment with an uneasy expression.

"You know... You don't  _ have _ to be someone else if you don't want to be," he said hesitantly, as if treading through a minefield. The clone watched him suspiciously. "I mean- if you have an identical spark, and all the same memories, I would argue that you have a pretty solid claim on that identity, too."

"But we're  _ obviously _ two separate people," the clone pointed out, rolling his optics. Knockout pursed his lips, as if having an internal debate.

"What exactly would you define a person's self to be?" He countered. "If you're arguing that it's a spark, well- the physics are complicated, but energy  _ moves.  _ Sparks aren't solid, unchanging masses. So, by that logic, you become a different person every time your spark does anything- and it's  _ always _ doing things, so that sounds ludicrous."

The clone furrowed his optical ridges. 

"What are you trying to do?" He asked suspiciously. 

"I don't  _ know,_" Knockout replied agitatedly. "Just- your logic is  _ bugging _ me! It feels more reasonable to classify a person as a set of data- or, I don't know, the way their sparks function! If your spark is identical to Starscream's, and you have all the same information in your processor, then you are effectively the  _ same person! _ It's like mitosis." 

"What the frag is a 'mitosis,' and what does _that_ have to do with anything?!" The clone snapped. Knockout took a deep in-vent and released it.

"Okay, so mitosis is an organic thing-" he ignored the seeker's outraged squawk at being compared to an _organic,_ "-and it happens when one of their little component bubbles splits into two identical bubbles. They came from the same bubble, they used to  be that bubble, but now they're two different entities that branched off the same thing. Does that make sense?" 

The clone squinted, utterly bewildered. 

"Do you have a  _ glitch?_" He asked. "What are you going  on about?" Knockout huffed in frustration.

"Look- when a mech gets a full-frame reformat, processor and all, they're still considered the same person, right?" He said. The clone nodded. "Right. It's because the spark is still the same. Your spark might be a completely separate entity now, but if it is indistinguishable from his, then you are just two different versions of the  same person. You are just Starscream if he was put into a new frame. Do you get it now?"

The clone stared at his knees for a moment.

"...I think so," he murmured. "Um. Thank you?"

Knockout slumped in relief.

"You can thank me by never crying in my presence  again, " he said.

"I certainly have no qualms about that," the clone muttered.

They both glanced the side, refusing to look at each other.

"...This is awkward," Knockout announced.

"Agreed," said the clone. 

There was another moment of tense silence. 

"Hey, wanna frag?" Knockout blurted. The clone thought his processor was going to crash. "I mean, we don't _have_ to, but I'm bored and I don't want to think about what just happened."

"Uh," the clone replied intelligently. His circuits warmed at the thought. Knockout  was  pretty... "Perhaps?" 

They stared at each other. 

"So, uh- what exactly do you want to...?" Knockout gestured between the two of them uncertainly. 

The clone fidgeted.

"Well..." He trailed off, mentally debating how to go about this, before tossing caution into the wind. "Frag it."

He grabbed Knockout's jaw and smashed their lip components together.

...

Smokescreen walked down the corridor with a spring in his step and a smile on his face, carrying two rations to the prisoners. 

He reached the cell door, knelt down to the slot, and froze, optics widening.

_ "Can't you go faster than that?!" _

_ "Shut up- you said I could set the pace, I'm setting the pace!" _

They were  _doing something_ in there.

As a former resident of the Elite Guard Barracks, he'd accidentally interrupted enough unfortunate couples to know  _ exactly _ what he was listening to. 

Smile still in place, he stood back up, turned around, and stiffly hurried away. They could get their rations later. 

...

Smokescreen's reports of what Starscream and Knockout had been up to were bad enough, but _this_ absolute audacity? Ratchet was about to steal Arcee's throwing-rocks and stick them in inadvisable places in the frames of both their defenseless prisoners. His left optic twitched.

"You want me to give you  _ what?_" He asked slowly, trying with all his being to silently convey the hostility Optimus wouldn't let him openly express.

Knockout, covered in scuffs and paint transfers that had mysteriously materialized out of nowhere over the past few hours, didn't seem to get it. 

"Paint," he said, enunciating it as if Ratchet were a newspark. " _Quality _ paint. Not that cheap slag humans like to make art with, something made for  _ metal._" 

Ratchet stared at him a long moment. It seemed he was serious.

"You two are  _ prisoners of war!_" He exclaimed, despite knowing it was futile to try and argue with the idiots. "This isn't the time for a- a  _ makeover!_" 

Knockout raised an optical ridge.

"Au contraire, my dear jailer," he purred. "Might as well look pretty for our  _ personal discussions._" 

Ratchet grimaced and made a noise of disgust. 

"You mean our  _ interrogations, _ you little glitched-out-"

"Ah-ah," Knockout teased, wagging his digit mock-scoldingly. "Careful now. We wouldn't want the Big O to think you're treating us _poorly,_ now, would we? No need to throw around insults."

"Honesty is a virtue," Ratchet replied flatly.

"So is kindness," Knockout shot back. "And wouldn't it be _ever so_ _ kind _ of you to provide two _terribly_ unfortunate and clumsy captives with a little nice paint?" 

Ratchet scowled at him. Knockout smiled back far too innocently for someone with his long, gruesome criminal history. The younger medic fluttered his optical shutters and rocked back and forth on his pedes in an attempt to seem cute.

Ratchet furrowed his optical ridges.

"If you promise to never do whatever it is you're doing again, I'll get you all the paint you want," he said gruffly. 

Knockout stiffened and placed an offended servo over chestplate.

"That was  _ endearing,  _ you absolute barbarian!" He exclaimed. 

"Just tell me what colors you want," Ratchet demanded tiredly.

He was beginning to think that they'd be better off turning them loose to wreak havoc upon the humans. Let _them_ suffer, instead.

"Why, thank you," Knockout purred. "We'll have red, white... And, oh- perhaps _blue,_ just for fun."

  
" _Wonderful,_ " Ratchet replied flatly. "Is that all?"

Knockout glanced at a few long, thin scratches on his arm sheepishly.

"Um. Do you have a spare rotary buffer?" He asked.

Ratchet sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^This is your brain on Tired.
> 
> They're not in a romantic relationship now, it's more like friends with benefits? Anyway, thanks for reading!!!! Don't forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed, they always make me so happy!!! :)


	39. Elizabeth Threatens To Commit A War Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what it says on the tin. Oh- also, Clonescream and Knockout are gay and dramatic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry this took so long, I belong in the corner. Thank you so much for all your support (over 10,000 hits?? AaaaaAAA-), you guys really are the best!

The clone eyed the paint apprehensively.

"What, exactly, is the purpose of this?" He asked. Knockout hummed, draping a sheet over the seeker's outstretched upper arm. 

"I'm sure you're aware that 'Knockout' used to be a fairly common designation," he replied, spraying a large cerulean streak across his cellmate's forearm. "Of course, I didn't know that when I named myself- hold still!"

The clone stopped fidgeting, and frowned.

"What does  _ that _ have to do with anything?" He muttered. Knockout huffed. 

"I was getting there! Anyway, as I'm sure you can imagine, nobody looked twice at a Knockout. It was boring.  _ Plain."  _ He sneered the word as if it were a curse. "You don't get anywhere in life without being notable, so I decided I was going to be the sexiest fragging Knockout anyone had ever met." 

The medic adopted an expression of grim determination.

"...No matter the cost," he finished, staring into the distance as if reliving a terrible crime he had perpetrated. 

The clone furrowed his optical ridges at him.

"You concern me, sometimes," he said. Knockout blinked, snapping out of his trance.

"My point is that there are  two  Starscreams now, and you're completely identical," he continued. "You have to separate yourself from him. You have to be the  _ sexy Starscream." _

The clone's biolights flushed.

"I- _what?"_ He spluttered. Knockout nodded very seriously, without a trace of irony.

"Yes," he said. "He's the plain, boring Starscream, and you're going to be the pretty one. You need a  makeover- Doctor's orders." 

He finished spraying one arm, and moved onto the next. 

"That's- that's absurd, I'm not  supposed to be _pretty,"_ the clone protested, but he didn't pull away.

"Shh," Knockout replied, pressing a digit to the clone's lips. "I need a project. You'll look great, I promise." He grabbed the white paint with a smirk. "Now, turn around and show me those  lovely wings of yours."

The clone's vocalizer hissed and popped with static, and he felt as though he were going to crash.

"Bright  white?  On my  _ wings?!" _ He squeaked. "That's- that's-"

"A sensible fashion choice?" Knockout supplied. The clone looked at him incredulously.

_ "Shamelessly provocative!"  _ He shrieked. "It'll draw all the attention! I'll look like a _floozy!"_ Knockout raised an optical ridge.

"Starscream, these are your old colors," he said flatly, and before the seeker could interrupt, "you were all over the news at the beginning of the war. Everyone saw you and your 'stripperific' wings commanding Megatron's air force, nobody is going to stop respecting you because you don't look half-dead anymore."

The clone grunted noncommitally.

"Besides," Knockout continued, "if anyone implies otherwise, you can just kill them! The mortality rate among people who insult you is  _ high, _ after all."

Unbidden, his execution of Cliffjumper and all its negative consequences popped into the clone's mind. He pushed them out just as swiftly.

"Very well," he finally acquiesced, allowing Knockout to turn him around. 

"Atta boy," the medic purred. "Now, hold still- I'm going to make you look  _ perfect." _

...

Fowler paced the platform. His jaw had been clenched so tightly for so long that he'd developed a tension headache. Team Prime looked no better.

"You're telling me you  _ still _ have  no idea  where they're hiding?" He asked, glaring up at Optimus. The Prime's expression was deeply saddened, as per usual. Fowler was beginning to think it was his default

"We do not," he said. "Unfortunately, Starscream has not been forthcoming in this matter."

Fowler pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did the losing team have to be the good guys? He would _kill_ for allies with a warship and advanced tracking technology right about now.

"Great," he muttered. "I mean,  _ really-" _

His building rant was interrupted by a beep from the console. Bumblebee buzzed something incomprehensible.

"It's Starscream's signal," said Ratchet. "It's got another one attached to it- a group call." He looked to Optimus for instructions.

"Answer it," said the Prime. Ratchet nodded, and pressed some buttons.

"This is Autobot oupost Omega-One, do you copy?" 

"Hello,  _Autobots,"_ Starscream greeted in a sneering tone. Fowler grimaced. "We have a _proposition_ for you!"

"What is the meaning of this, Starscream?" Optimus asked darkly.

"As you know, my associate and I have been  _ quite _ busy, and we have procured  _ certain chemicals- _ hush, you!" He snapped at some unheard participant. The Autobots exchanged looks. "Don't be absurd- fine! If I'm explaining it so terribly, _you_ can do it!"

The other tag on the screen lit up.

_ " _ _Hello,_ Autobots!" Greeted a familiar voice, shouting over what sounded like rushing water. "Remember me?"

Optimus's optics widened.

"Elizabeth?" He asked.

"Bingo," the girl replied. "I'm sure you  _ also _ remember my recent break-in, where I stole all those laxatives?"

"We haven't forgotten," Arcee said darkly.

Elizabeth laughed.

"If you haven't guessed, I'm currently in a water treatment plant- I won't tell you which, of course, but it's the only one in this whole  _ entire _ _town._ I have my handy dandy laxatives here, and I'm about to give everyone a really,  _ really _ bad week." She paused. "Of course, I can spare them all this  _shitty_ fate- see what I did there?- if you just give us our other Starscream back. It's not so hard! Pick a location, we'll meet up and exchange pleasantries, and  _ no one gets hurt." _

Fowler set his jaw.

"Do you have any _idea_ how serious what you're threatening to do is?" He snapped. "This is basically a  _ war crime!" _

"An  _ easily avoided  _ war crime," Eizabeth corrected. "C'mon, he's probably taking lots of valuable resources, anyway! We'll make sure he's on his best behavior- pinky promise." 

"Somehow, I doubt that," Ratchet muttered. "You're not exactly setting a promising precedent." Elizabeth scoffed.

"Oh, please- you forced our hand. I  thought we had an arrangement, but then you had to go and fucking  _kidnap_ him! Just give him back before I  poison the _fucking_ water supply! " She shouted, voice growing ragged. She audibly cleared her throat. "I'll give you fifteen minutes. If you don't call back, I'm dropping them in. Just be glad I was nice enough to get laxatives and not  _ diseased roadkill." _

With that, she hung up. Agent Fowler turned to Ratchet.

"How fast can we get the tech-whiz kid in here to trace the signal?" He asked. The medic shook his head.

"Not fast enough to find her," he replied solemnly. Fowler cursed, slamming his palm onto the railing. 

"We can't let him loose," Arcee protested. "He's too dangerous- and so are the other two. We should work on bringing them in."

"Wait, wait, wait," Smokescreen interrupted. "What are 'laxatives?'"

Ratchet pinched the space between his optics with a sigh. 

"I mean, I think it's pretty important to understand what's she's threatening to do," the rookie continued. 

Fowler stared at him a good long moment.

"Trust me, kid," he said, "you don't want to know. It's non-lethal, but you can bet that it doesn't belong in  anyone's  water supply unless the whole damn town is having a  _ serious _ issue." 

"If it's non-lethal, then why are we considering letting Starscream go when he could kill more people?" Bulkhead asked. 

"Loathe as I am to admit, Bulkhead makes an excellent point," Ratchet added grimly. "We're potentially weighing  _ lives _ here."

Fowler's grip on the railing tightened.

"Didn't you hear her? This is a situation that affects an  _ entire town!_ _"_ He snapped. "That includes places like hospitals, where the last thing people need is drugs in their water making them more sick! This could very well _kill_ someone in critical condition, depending on the circumstances, and  _ we don't know where she is. _ Not to mention the fact that this puts people out of commission, and the cleanup of the whole water supply would be an absolute _disaster!"_

Optimus frowned anxiously.

"Agent Fowler, I understand your concerns-"

"I don't think you do," the human interrupted. "Tell me: how many humans has Starscream killed, to your knowledge?"

Optimus was silent. Fowler sighed heavily.

"I get it, okay? He's a war criminal, you've told me about the things the Decepticons have done. But unless he starts deliberately targeting human settlements for more than petty theft- which, by the way, he stopped doing, leading me to conclude that he found another way to get supplies for the kid-  _ unless _ he actually goes and _kills_ a human?  This is more dangerous, and it is taking priority." 

The Autobots looked unhappy with that, but no one argued. Good. He hated it, too.

"I'll go check on the prisoners," Ratchet grumbled, lumbering off. 

There was a short, uncomfortable pause.

"That kid had better hope I _never_ find her," Fowler muttered darkly, scrubbing at his face. "How much time do we have left?" 

"Thirteen minutes," Arcee replied. Fowler nodded.

"We'll call her back when the timer hits five," he said grimly. "Until then, we need to plan."

Smokescreen tentatively raised a servo.

"I have an idea," he said. 

...

Elizabeth slumped against the wall behind her after she hung up, sweat plastering her hair to her neck. A bag of unpackaged laxative pills and powder was clutched in one trembling fist.

What was she  doing?! Holding a town for ransom went against everything she believed in, and yet she felt as though she were in too deep to back out. 

"Well," she muttered to herself, "it's not like they're gonna let me do it- I'm bluffing. This is a bluff. I'm not going to hurt innocent people- and, I mean, really- if they call it and I end up tossing this in there, it's _their_ fault for not taking this seriously."

It was pure bullshit, and she knew it. She shoved the sentimental part of her as far down as it would go.

"This is a matter of survival, anyway," she continued quietly, staring down into the churning pools of water below the concrete walkway she was standing on. "We  _ need _ him. And Starscream looked so scared, he only ever gets scared at real threats. Just- they're laxatives, anyway. It's not like it's rat poison. Besides, these people have a safety net and I don't."

She kept murmuring reassurances to herself, keeping an eye out for anyone else. Starscream had claimed that he'd taken down the security cameras, but it never hurt to be safe.

"They shot first," she said to herself. "They're the instigators, and we're defending ourselves."

She didn't believe it, but the thought of disappointing Starscream was, shamefully, a greater threat in her mind. 

She tightened her grip on the bag, promising herself that, should the Autobots call her bluff, she would drop it in without hesitation. No thinking, no conscience. She had a part to play, a mission to complete. 

She checked her phone. Seven minutes left. 

"I can do this," she whispered, bouncing anxiously on her feet. 

A part of her she wasn't proud of knew that she could, and would. It was almost a relief. 

She couldn't afford to lose Starscream's trust after throwing in her lot with him. This was a self-imposed test of loyalty she intended to pass.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what, you may ask, was Elizabeth up to all of last chapter? She was unpacking the pills. About a walmart shopping bag's worth. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!! Don't forget to comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed!!! :D


	40. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Autobots scheme. An exchange occurs. Starscream and Elizabeth have a little chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooolllly shit, with the way my brain has been fucking me over the past couple weeks, it's a miracle I finished writing this today. Round of applause for me!!! 
> 
> Thank you for your patience, here's another chapter!

Every pair of optics in the room was locked onto Smokescreen.

"What is your proposal?" Optimus asked. The rookie fidgeted under the weight of the attention.

"We get rid of both of them," he said. "Two bots, one blast. No more guard duty!"

The tension in the room exploded.

"You can't  _ seriously _ be proposing-"

"-and increase the chances that they'll do something dangerous?!"

"This seems ill-advised-"

"I'm not done!" Smokescreen shouted over the din.

"How is having  _ two  _ prisoners on the loose somehow better than just _one?!"_ Arcee snapped impatiently.

Smokescreen cycled a deep vent.

"Okay, so back at the Academy, we had an incident where some guy kept graffitiing the walls at night, in the places we didn't have cameras. So, they narrowed it down to a few suspects, and then they got me and another guy to sneak around and stick little trackers on their wheels to see where they were going after dark, and they got caught," he babbled without pausing for a break.

"What does  that have to do with anything?" Bulkhead asked.

Smokescreen cycled another deep vent.

"Okay, so at  first I was gonna propose we put a tracker on  Starscream,  but then I realized that wouldn't work because he's got really lightweight armor, right? So, like, he's practically  _ naked _ and his sensors would pick it up! But _wheels_ don't  have sensors, so if we sent  Knockout with him-"

"We'd be able to pinpoint where Starscream is keeping his hideout!" Agent Fowler finished. 

The room was silent for a moment.

'That's... Actually not a bad idea,' Bumblebee said. Optimus nodded.

"Well done, Smokescreen," he said. "I will comm Ratchet and inform him of the plan."

Smokescreen fluttered his doorwings and squealed at the praise.

...

Knockout was _livid._ His cellmate's new paint had just  _ barely  _ finished drying, and they'd both been cuffed and pulled out of the cell before he could even add any detailing!

"What is the meaning of this?!" He exclaimed, sounding a bit too much like Starscream for his own comfort. "You couldn't give me a  _ little _ more time?" 

"I literally could not," Ratchet replied, marching the two of them down the hall with a firm grip on the backs of their necks. 

"What are you going to do with us?!" The clone asked frantically, optics darting about as though searching for a hidden ambush. "Surely, we have not outlived our usefulness-"

Knockout's optics widened at the implications.

"Don't give them  _ ideas!" _ He hissed.

"Quiet, both of you!" Ratchet snapped, pushing them into the main room. The pair stumbled, but managed not to fall over.

The Prime was speaking to someone through the (actually, rather pathetic) console.

"...We are willing to to make an arrangement, on one condition," he said.

"You're not exactly in a position to make demands,  Prime," said a familiar voice.  Starscream.

The clone stiffened next to him.

"They came for me," he breathed, standing up a little straighter. 

Knockout felt a stab of disappointment at that. The prospect of being left alone in the dark cell was much less appealing than it had been a couple weeks before, now that he had decent company (not that he'd ever admit it). 

"We will not cooperate unless you agree to take  both our prisoners," Prime continued. 

Knockout gaped. There was a pause.

Oh, no. Oh, no no no. It was one thing to be stuck in a cell with his clone, but Knockout didn't want to  _ live _ with _Starscream!_

_ "What?!"  _ Starscream screeched, apparently sharing the sentiment. "Absolutely _not!_ He tried to  kill me, you know- Mute it, Elizabeth, I don't  care how logical you think that sounds-"

"Wait, don't  _ I _ get a say in this?" Knockout asked. 

"No," Ratchet replied. "We don't have the resources to be supporting  _ moochers." _

Well, then!

"Really feeling the love, here," Knockout snapped. 

The new recruit pranced up to him and gave him a hearty, if rather awkward, pat on the  _ inside of one of his wheels.  _

"Maybe next time, you shouldn't get on everybody's nerves," he said smugly.

Knockout's processor stalled.

"Ex- _cuse _ you?!" He shouted. "Touch my wheels with those grubby little servos of yours again, and I'll  _dismantle_ them!" 

The kid at least had the decency to look sheepish. He raised his servos in surrender and backed off. The clone clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Fine, fine!" Starscream growled. "But if I have to take  _ him,  _ then I want the Apex Armor back! For self-defense purposes, obviously."

"Absolutely not!" Ratchet shouted. There was a brief pause.

"...Elizabeth says she's dropping the bag in if you don't give us the Apex Armor," Starscream added. 

"We will deliver you the Apex Armor in addition to the prisoners," Prime announced before anyone else could object. The rest of the Autobots made varying expressions of frustration and disbelief.

"I'm flattered that he thinks I'm dangerous enough to warrant  _ that,"  _ Knockout murmured to the clone. 

"Oh, he's lying," the seeker whispered with a giddy little smile on his face. "It's just useful to have around."

"Wonderful," Starscream said. "I'm transmitting our meeting coordinates to you. Don't be late!" With that, he hung up. 

"Really, Optimus?" Ratchet asked. The Prime didn't reply, looking some bizarre combination of angry and forlorn.

"Hi, excuse me," Knockout said, waving his cuffed servos,  "what the frag is going on here?"

...

Elizabeth had never felt more relieved in her life than when Starscream opened a groundbridge at her position to bring her back home. Pulse racing, she sprinted through the portal, almost stumbling over her feet at the resulting vertigo. 

Once she was back at the ship, she dropped her bag, spilling laxatives across the floor. Her shaking hands fumbled with rudimentary communicator Starscream had spent hours instructing her how to build as she called him.

"I'm back at the base," she blurted. The line crackled with static for a moment.

_'Wonderful,'_ Starscream replied. There was a brief pause.  _ 'You did very well today, Lieutenant. I'm impressed.' _

The line closed. Elizabeth laughed softly, with a tinge of hysteria. The sound echoed off the walls of the broad interior of the ship, making it feel empty and imposing.

"Oh my god," she whispered, fighting nausea. She wiped the sweat off her brow and the back of her neck with cold, clumsy fingers. "Oh my god."

A groundbridge opened on the opposite end of the room, admitting Starscream (carrying the Apex Armor), his clone (who had gotten a new paintjob), and some pointy red guy who must have been 'Knockout.' 

"...All I'm saying is that that shade of white is positively _indecent_ on your wings!" Starscream complained. "There's a  _ reason _ we don't wear it anymore-"

"Oh, hush,  _ 'Screamer! _ It looks fine!" Knockout interrupted, massaging his wrists with a frown. Starscream rounded on him with a snarl.

_ "You  _ just be be grateful that I was merciful enough not to  _ kill _ you!" He hissed. The clone growled impatiently.

"Would you two  _ shut it?!" _ He snapped, wings tightening together at the small of his back. "They're  _ my  _ wings, and _I_ say they look _superb!_ End of discussion!" 

His gaze swept the interior of the consoke room, coming to rest on its sole human occupant. His face broke into a grin.

"Elizabeth!" He exclaimed, wings perking back up. "I hear this was all  _ your  _ plan?"

Elizabeth nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Relief bloomed in her chest, despite her anxieties. 

"Yeah," she croaked. Knockout raised an optical ridge.

"So this is your squishy, hm?" He asked, giving her a critical once-over. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

"Nice to meet you, too,  _ crunchy,"  _ she retorted before she stop herself.

Knockout made a face which gave the Elizabeth the impression that, had he a nose, it would be wrinkling. 

"Charming," he muttered. "So, any ideas as to where I'll be staying?"

"Outside, perhaps?" Starscream suggested with a sneer. The clone laughed, fake and high-pitched.

"How funny!" He crowed, flapping a his hand (blue now, Elizabeth noted) dismissively. "There are many remaining crew's quarters, just go pick one out."

"Crew's quarters?" Knockout asked. "Wait- where  _ are  _ we?"

Starscream gave the clone a Look, shaking his head. He went ignored.

"The remains of the  _ Harbinger,"  _ the clone replied. Knockout's optics widened. 

"Ah," he said. "That explains why this place absolutely  _ filthy-  _ though, I shouldn't complain. To be honest, I was expecting something more like a cave."

Starscream pursed his lips.

"If you tell  _ anyone  _ where we are," he growled, looming over Knockout threateningly, "I will  personally _skewer_ you from  end to end." He flexed his talons to make a point. Knockout shrank back a tad.

"Duly noted," he said. Starscream took a step back.

"Good. You," he pointed at his clone, "keep an optic on him to be certain he behaves."

The clone nodded, and beckoned Knockout away through a dingy corridor, leaving Elizabeth alone with Starscream. The seeker watched them go with a pinched, suspicious expression before turning back to her.

"You did well today, Lieutenant," he said, kneeling to Elizabeth's level. "I don't trust Knockout, and loathe as I am to admit it, I may require additional assistance in combat. Here."

He laid the Apex Armor gently at her feet. Elizabeth gasped.

"I get to keep it?" She asked. Starscream's expression twisted slightly.

"Well- I  may have need of it in the future," he muttered, "but I am entrusting its safety to you." 

_ Trust.  _ Elizabeth's head swam. 

"Thank you," she breathed. "I won't let you down."

Starscream smiled. It was an awkward, lopsided thing- quite unlike his usual smirks and scowls. It felt... Softer. 

"I know you won't," he replied, standing up. "Go rest. You've earned it."

Elizabeth watched him leave, trying to focus more on her elation than the sour feeling pooling in her gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed! Thank you for reading!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a fucking trip, folks. Strap in.


End file.
